The Genie Returns
by LadyJafaria
Summary: Nobody found Jafar's lamp while Aladdin was alive to do anything about it. Centuries later, archaeologists excavating the site of Agrabah dug him up, and now it's up to Aladdin's descendant to get rid of him, with help from everyone's favorite Medjai.
1. Prologue 1: Agrabah

800s C.E. Agrabah.

_Author's note: This hinges on the premise that Abis Mal did not find the lamp and therefore Jafar wasn't killed, in other words, the sequel did not happen. Aladdin and Jasmine still got married and many of the enemies of Agrabah still exist, not because I like them but because their existence doesn't FUBAR my premise. Also, there are two reasons Genie can't find the lamp. One is the prophecy, and one is that genies cannot counteract more powerful genies. Jafar is more powerful than Genie since he is not free, and Jafar could easily have made it so that Genie or Aladdin simply cannot find his lamp._

"What's on your mind, Jasmine?"

"Nobody's found that lamp yet. I still think we should have destroyed it. What if someone finds it and helps Jafar get revenge on us? Not to mention it could be anywhere. It could be in another kingdom. What if our enemies find it? Can you picture Mozenrath finding that lamp? I don't want to."

"We'll just have Genie find it."

"Um, Aladdin, when I threw it I still had phenomenal cosmic powers. Now I'm only semi-phenomenal, nearly-cosmic. That meanie genie in the black lamp is still phenomenal and cosmic."

"Well, you can still find the lamp, can't you?"

"I can try."

"And we're going to consult the new Vizier," said Jasmine. While Aladdin had turned down the position, a cousin of Jasmine's had stepped up both to advise Sultan Hamed and to train Aladdin and Jasmine in being good rulers.

"Omar, what would you do if, hypothetically, your predecessor was a very bad man, a usurper, who turned into a genie but three years later the lamp still wasn't found?"

"That's a little specific for a hypothetical."

"Yeah, it really happened. Sorry."

"Well, while we were looking for the lamp, I'd warn the populace and the rulers of the surrounding territories."

"Baghdad and Samarra will know what to do."

"You can't rely on them."

"Well no, but they can help us."

"We should write a proclamation telling everyone to not handle oil lamps they randomly find in the desert."

"If we tell them that they'll do it."

"Your grasp of the human mind is stunning for one so young. What do you propose we do?"

"Tell them all the truth," said Aladdin. "I learned three years ago that you can't hide the truth for long or it comes back to bite you."

"Yes. If we explain why they shouldn't rub the lamp, they won't. But if we make it sound like an arbitrary instruction, they'll practically be looking for it."

Within a few days, signs had gone up, a proclamation had been read in the public squares, and letters had been written to other rulers.

"Just one more thing to do," said Omar. "Add this to the History of Agrabah, so that even those who come after us will know of Aladdin's valiant deeds and the danger still lurking in the desert."

"Good thinking, Omar. I'm glad you're a good vizier."

"One in a thousand."

"Do you think it's a good idea to post guards in the desert so that if someone does find the lamp we can stop them from making a wish?"

"Jasmine, you need to stop asking for advice and start taking action. We always used to."

"Yes. It's just that since Father's been sick I've been thinking about what it takes to run a kingdom. Running off to solve the problem with action doesn't always work."

"I don't always do that, either."

"No, but you are impulsive. Need I remind you of the fruit-juggling trick?"

"The Caliph didn't mind! Did he?"

"Well, we haven't been invited to Samarra, Aladdin, and I think they'd have kept us out of Baghdad if they could."

"So, Jasmine, when we're in charge, we can still have fun, right? I mean, your father always had fun."

"He was so distracted by fun he nearly let this place be destroyed by the one person who should have been looking out for it. I love Father, Aladdin, but I'm not blind to his flaws. We're going to have to do a lot of work. But let's start by dealing with this lamp problem."

"I knew I should have destroyed it myself, but I still wasn't sure killing him would be right."

"He was more than ready to kill you, Aladdin," said Omar. "Jafar would have eaten kittens if it would have helped him. He, more than anyone else in recent memory, deserved death, and if you believe nobody does, that's a weakness. It will never get any easier to send the evildoers to their afterlife, but you'll have to realize that letting them live only causes more pain and death. Think of the city first."

"From now on, I will, but that doesn't help me solve what went wrong three years ago. I didn't even try to destroy the lamp. Genie just grabbed it."

"Your genie is a trusted friend. But he lacks skills," said Omar.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Genie, who'd conjured up a chalk board and was doing algebraic equations with one hand while juggling with two others and standing on one foot.

"Charming, very charming. I simply meant you and Aladdin's palace staff do not have--or need--identical skills. I would never say anything against your character or your wonderful friendship with Aladdin."

"Thank you, Omar."

"You're welcome. And you're right. This is no time for idle chatter. Genie, I want you to go looking for that lamp."

"Aww, do I have to? I don't like Jafar!"

"Nobody does, Genie, but you have the best chance of finding the lamp," said Aladdin.

Alas, it was not to be. The realm prospered under Aladdin and Jasmine's leadership for many years, but the evil genie's lamp was never found. Guards wandered the desert and Aladdin's Genie went searching periodically, with no luck. He even went to see the prophet Fashir, only to receive "it was not for you to find" and a cryptic prophecy that he never even told Aladdin because he couldn't figure it out. He told Omar, of course, so that it could be written into the History of Agrabah (even though it made no sense).

Omar became obsessed with maintaining and distributing the History of Agrabah, traveling as far as Medina to warn people. Aladdin never minded, because it was definitely a more benign madness than was usually contracted by viziers.

But the fact remained that while Aladdin and Jasmine left a prosperous kingdom, a well-known history and a beautiful family behind, they lived and, finally, died not knowing what had happened to Jafar's lamp other than that it lay buried in the sand somewhere, and sand was everywhere.


	2. Prologue 2: Egypt

**1261. Agrabah.**

_Author's Note: 1. 1261 marked a turning point in the history of the Mongol invasions; it was in that year that they were defeated by Turks and Arabs in Syria. The Mongols never entered Egypt and remained, slightly weaker, in areas further east from then on. I'm setting the destruction of Agrabah slightly earlier in the year than the battle, for obvious reasons, but the battle is not far off. 2. Yes, he says Thank God instead of Thank Allah. There's a Translation Convention; why would I leave the word for God in Arabic when everything else is English? That just makes people think it's a name and isn't translatable, when it's a title and is. Some Arabic expressions that have to do with God will be used untranslated in the story, but "Allah" by itself will not be used; "God" will be._

"The city is burning, Ali! We have to save something!" said a fourteen-year-old boy to a younger one as they looked out the window of the palace of Agrabah at encroaching barbarians.

"What?"

"A book! I heard these barbarians have no use for learning and burn every book they see! We have to find my ancestors' book!"

"Oh, you mean the History of Agrabah. I heard Omar was a useless vizier because of all the time he spent writing that."

"Omar was the founder of my house, Ali," said the older one. "My family have been Viziers of Agrabah as long as your own have been rulers because of how trustworthy Omar was. Now, thanks to these barbarians, you will be prince of nothing at all. And I, God help me, will still advise you. But we simply must find the History of Agrabah!"

"Why do we have to find some old book?"

"Remember the story about the evil vizier who became a genie?"

"Not that again."

"Yes, that again. You'd think someone would have found the lamp by now."

Interestingly, completely unbeknownst to the royal family of Agrabah, a very poor nomad had once found the lamp, wished for money, and been nearly smothered in a shower of it, then buried the lamp in the sand again once he'd dug himself out because Omar's descendants were, while excellent viziers, concerned with so many things they rarely made time to appoint guards for the lamp.

Regardless, the lamp was still as good as lost to Ali and his friend, whose name was Rashid.

"What are we going to do once we get the book?"

"We're going to get out of here."

"What about my parents and your father? Won't they be looking for us?"

"My father died in battle yesterday," said Rashid. "And yours seems poised to join him."

"But who will take care of us?" said Ali.

"First, we need to find that book. Then, we need to get out of the city alive."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"There are secret passages under the palace. They come out at the city pier. We just have to take a boat to a safer place."

Rashid led Ali to the palace library. Once he'd found the History of Agrabah, he went towards the treasury, put money in pouches for himself and the prince, and hastened on to the basement of the palace. There, he unlocked a heavy door into a dark corridor, filled with dust and cobwebs.

"It looks like nobody's ever been down here, Rashid," said Ali.

"And with good reason. These were built for one purpose: to allow people to escape. We're using them for their purpose, but for years Agrabah has been such a successful city that nobody has needed to use them."

"Where are we going to go?"

"We're going to get on the first boat that's leaving, no matter where it's going. We have enough money to get there and find some tradesman we might be useful to. We're going to have to become apprentices or shop workers."

"Why don't we go to their palace and tell them that we're a prince and a vizier's son who've lost our city and need to keep this book safe?"

"No. I can't hand the book over to someone else. They might let it collect dust. We can go to a palace and petition, but this book stays with us."

About an hour later, Rashid and Ali emerged from the underground labyrinth into the city shipyard. It was chaotic. With the news of the barbarians approaching, everyone who had a ship, or could pay a captain to travel on one, was preparing it to leave Agrabah. Rashid approached a man who was giving instructions to the crew of a good-size ship.

"Excuse me, is this your ship?"

"Yes it is, young fellow. Everyone's trying to get out of the city. I take it you're no exception?"

"Yes. My name is Rashid, and this is Prince Ali."

"The prince is fleeing the city?"

"The prince is ten years old. He is too young to stand and fight. I believed getting him out of the city would be best."

"And you're?"

"The Vizier's son. The Vizier, I suppose, since my father is dead."

"And what's the book?"

"The History of Agrabah. I must keep it safe."

"Very well. I shall make sure nobody harms you, or that book, until we reach Cairo."

One night, on board the ship, Ali turned to his friend and said, "Rashid! Find the prophecy you told me your family knew about but Aladdin didn't! Maybe we have to find the lamp!"

"I hope not. Otherwise it would have been quite the wrong thing to do to leave Agrabah." He opened the thick history book to a chapter entitled "Fashir's Prophecy."

"Aladdin's Genie set out to find the lamp. After many tries, all unsuccessful, he went to the prophet Fashir. Fashir told him 'It is not for you to find. More then a thousand years hence, when your story is all but forgotten, it shall repeat itself. The lamp shall be found by an outsider but delivered to Jafar's own kinsman. Fear not, for Aladdin's line will have continued as well. By the hand of the descendant of Aladdin will the lamp perish, with the assistance of a Princess and a man who guards the Pyramids.' Well no wonder Genie didn't think this made any sense. Jafar didn't have any children, there won't be a Princess of Agrabah in a thousand years, or even a few days…and the Pyramids? What could that possibly mean? Why would your family be in Egypt?"

"If you didn't notice what the captain said, we're kind of _going to Egypt._"

Several days later, the ship arrived in Alexandria, and several days after that, Ali and Rashid's riverboat arrived in Cairo.

"Finally!" said Rashid. He took a map of the city out of a pack he was carrying and began reading it. "All right. It seems like there's a lodging house right there, and there's the king's palace." He turned to a local man who was walking through the marketplace. "Excuse me sir. Do you know which day the king holds petitions?"

"The fourth day of the week. Today."

"Oh, thank God!" exclaimed Ali. "Could you help us find the palace? I'm Prince Ali of Agrabah, and this is my Vizier…sort of. He would be, if the city wasn't destroyed."

"The king had a messenger from Agrabah yesterday, as a matter of fact. I'll help you get to the palace so that you're safe on the way, but the next time you are in Cairo you would be wise to find some place to lock your valuables, as well as refraining from announcing that you are the heir of the Kassimi dynasty." Why his dynasty had been named after Aladdin's own father rather than Aladdin himself was a never-ending source of annoyance for Ali, because from all accounts, including the truly worthy _History of Agrabah_, the man had been a no-account thief. He supposed that that was just the way these sorts of things worked.

Leaving such thoughts aside, Ali and Rashid decided to follow the man's lead and soon arrived at the palace.

"Hello there, Abu Selim," said one of the men standing guard. "Who have you brought with you today?"

"The prince of Agrabah."

"_Former_ prince of Agrabah. I can't exactly rule a destroyed city."

"So sorry about your city. Do you need to see the king?"

"Why do you think we're _here_?" asked Rashid. "If you don't need to see the _king_, you typically don't go to the _palace_."

"Now, now, Rashid, there's no need for that," said Ali. "We have to be nice to the king."

"I suppose you're right."

They entered the huge hall, filled with throngs of people. At the center of the room sat the king, surrounded by his courtiers; he was currently listening to the petition of a glassblower demanding compensation from his neighbor, a donkey keeper, whose donkeys had kicked over a cart of fine glass lamps. Ali rolled his eyes and Rashid elbowed him.

"I don't know what to do. The animal was properly restrained, and it seems as if the glassblower is the one who brought his cart too close to the donkey. However, the donkeyman should have better control of his animals. I am quite at a loss here."

"If I may be so bold as to speak!" yelled Rashid.

"You may, child. When did you arrive?"

"Just now. I have a question. Whose shop was established first?"

"The donkeyman's," said the king.

"In that case, the glassblower is an irresponsible fool for building his shop for the production of fragile objects in such close proximity to animals known for their stubbornness and bad temper."

"So you think he should not be compensated?"

"I think he should be compensated and requested to use the compensation to move shop. That way, future problems are averted."

"A boy like this didn't grow up on the streets of Cairo!" exclaimed the king. "You must be a prince yourself!"

"Vizier's son, actually. He's the prince. I'm Rashid, this is Ali, and we're here from Agrabah."

"So you did make it out safely! We were so worried!"

"About me?"

"No, about Ali. Say, what's that book?"

"The History of Agrabah. And if it's all the same to you, sir, I'd like to make my own arrangements for protecting it."

"Very well. Now, you two must be in need of a place to live, and since you've proven your merit I see no reason why that place can't be my court. I shall set you up as apprentice to my very own vizier, and you, Ali, you may have your pick of who to work with."

"The weapons master, sire."

"Good choice. He's very busy. We're mounting an attack against the barbarians soon, and myself and all the leaders of the army have to be ready."

"But your Majesty, that's suicide! These are the fiercest men I've ever seen!"

"Be calm, Rashid. We've been studying some of their own tactics."

"I wish you luck. But with all due respect, I'd like to find someplace to keep this book safe before I begin my apprenticeship."

Rashid walked out of the crowded audience hall with the book in his hands, leaving Ali and the courtiers staring in surprise.

He sat down on a rug and thought, looking in despair at the book. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked.

"You there!" he heard someone calling. "Yes, you, with the book!"

A Bedouin holding a falcon was standing among the crowd, and as far as Rashid could tell, that was who was calling to him.

"Who are you?"

"You don't need to know that," he said. "Is it true you are from Agrabah?"

"Yes, I fled Agrabah a few days ago."

"Are the Guards of Agrabah still posted in the desert?"

"I don't think so. I think they were called back to fight for the city against invasion."

"Do you fear that the evil force hidden near your city will someday be unleashed?"

"Well, yes."

"Good. Then we have something in common. I am a Medjai, and my duty is to protect Egypt from an undead creature. The book will be in good hands with my people."

"Thank you. But, um, how do you plan to get from here to Agrabah quickly?"

"When the barbarians leave, or are driven back, when it is safe to venture towards Agrabah, or where Agrabah was, I shall send some of the men I can spare and instruct them to protect the site of your city. I myself, regrettably, cannot leave Egypt."

"Are you sending the book with them?"

"I feel that would be unwise. I feel that so long as you are in Cairo, the book should be."

"Then why did you want to take it in the first place?"

"To read it. I would return it. And when you depart for the afterlife, I shall collect it from the palace."

"I don't want it anyway. It'll just remind me of Agrabah, and I want to start a new life here."

"Your city will be protected, even if you choose not to be part of its protection."

Rashid handed over the book. "It's very brave of you to offer. They say he was a very powerful genie."

"It's very _wise_ of _you_ to have carried this book out. We can only save things we know are in danger. I bid you good day." He walked away.

Rashid walked back into the palace.

"I see you don't have that cumbersome book anymore?" said the king.

"Someone else will protect Agrabah from now on. As for me, Cairo shall be my new home, and while I will miss my vanquished city I shall do my best in my new one."

And so he, and Ali, did, becoming permanent and admired fixtures in the Egyptian court until they departed for the afterlife many, many years later. As for the book, the Medjai was true to his word, and re-established guards of Agrabah. The lamp, in perfect accordance with the prophecy, remained buried in the earth.

Until…


	3. Found Histories of Lost Cities

**1935. Cairo.**

A quiet day in the Cairo Museum of Antiquities. The museum's newest director, Khalid el-Hibri, a short, thin man with curly dark hair and round glasses, was puttering around in the basement.

An employee came running up to him. "Khalid! What do we do about people leading expeditions to places that

don't exist?"

"We try not to let them. I'll be upstairs in a moment." Khalid looked at something strange on the end of a shelf.

"Hello there, what are you doing here?"

"A book? Why, I've never seen that book before," said the museum worker.

"Nor I. I shall have to ask the other Directors about it." When he picked it up, a note fell out. The museum worker picked it up.

"You're the only one who believes in the city. This may help," he read, and handed it to Khalid.

"That wily fox!" said Khalid, laughing. "He found a copy of the History of Agrabah before me, and managed to leave it here while we weren't looking!"

"And who would this be?"

"When I first started working here, someone came to me and told me a story about the city of Agrabah, which had been destroyed but had a legendary immortal peril attached to it. Vitally important that nobody finds it and all that. The person said that I was to be one of the Guardians of Agrabah, from here in the museum, and he would guard it closer to where it actually was."

"So he left the history here?"

"No. He was still looking for it, the last time I checked. This, my good friend, is Ardeth Bey's handwriting." His idiosyncratic, if not downright BAD, handwriting, thought Khalid. Why he'd bothered to write the damn thing in English instead of Arabic, when everyone knew he wrote English so much worse than he spoke it, baffled the Director, but then, a lot of things about Ardeth baffled the Director.

"You know the Medjai?"

"Well, yes. I talked to them about Agrabah, they didn't know any more than I did. But I suppose he found the History. The other Guardian of Agrabah will be so happy. Finally, I'll know what the peril is. Finally, I'll be able to guard the site properly. Now, where's this fellow asking about cities that don't exist?"

"Upstairs, Khalid. The other directors haven't liked him much."

"I'm sure I'll agree with them. Come now, Raghib, I have to take this book back to my office."

Khalid carried the book back to his office and opened it.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"Two of the other Directors laughed at me. I'm hoping you won't," said the person who had been knocking, an Englishman somewhat taller than Khalid.

"Why is that, Englishman? Because I am the youngest of them?"

"Because you have been described by the others as having a keener interest in...perhaps more esoteric things? Ones others might not believe in?"

"I can't let you go to Hamunaptra." Not that you'd find anything, he thought, place was completely destroyed, not even the damn mummy is left. It was the principle of the thing.

"Who said anything about Hamunaptra, Dr. el-Hibri? I was referring to _Agrabah_! Of course, it's some days' travel from Egypt, but I'm sure a daring chap such as yourself would be interested?"

"You've heard the stories?"

"I've heard it's a city nobody's ever excavated. Or even found."

"Yes. The problem is, there doesn't tend to be anything TO excavate in cities that were sacked by the Mongols in the mid-thirteenth century if they weren't rebuilt. You won't find anything of monetary or even historical value in Agrabah. If you're lucky maybe they left a minaret standing so they could throw people off it."

Khalid wondered why he had picked up the History of Agrabah right when he needed it. Finding it at all, yes, that was bound to happen, Ardeth didn't exactly hide it. But why today? He chalked it up to a weird coincidence. This only proves that Khalid hasn't spent quite enough time with Ardeth.

"Even if I wanted to be involved with an expedition to a city that may have never existed and certainly hasn't left any evidence now, I would need to know who is conducting it. Can I have your name please?"

"I am Joseph Wellington."

"You! You're hardly an archaeologist at all! Get out of my office!"

"Why such animosity, Dr. el-Hibri?"

"I have heard of you. My fellow museum workers say you seek only treasure, and don't give things to anyone who knows about them."

"I've given things to museums loads of times!"

Khalid tilted his head. "When?"

"All right, all right, so maybe I've been remiss in my duty to history. But how about a deal? If I find anything-anything at all—at the site of Agrabah, I will bring it here right away, if you provide help."

"What kind of help?"

"I've heard places like this have people watching over them."

"And?"

"You tell that ridiculous Bey fellow to call off the guardians, and then we're free to search for Agrabah!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wellington, but Ardeth Bey hardly believes me about the city." _Which is why he gave me the History the day you walked into my office raving about Agrabah_, Khalid thought with a smile. Oh, Ardeth believes in the city all right. But why tell a silly Englishman? "You're dealing with a different set of guards entirely."

"One you conveniently don't know." _Wrong again, Mr. Wellington._

"No. The best I can do is give you this map." He took a map that was already falling out of the History and handed it to Joseph.

"I can't read these bloody squiggles!"

"Don't call them squiggles. Arabic is a far nobler language than yours."

"Fact remains, my good doctor, that noble or not, I can't read it."

"Then take someone who speaks Arabic WITH you! They're not exactly rare around here."

"You aren't coming with me?"

"Why do you think I live in Cairo, Mr. Wellington?"

"I don't know. Tell me."

"I live in Cairo, Mr. Wellington, because I hate the desert."

"And you're quite sure you're Arab?"

"Quite sure. I just don't enjoy wandering about in sand. I don't think anyone does. Some of us have to. I'm not one of them. Now, either you can get out of this museum, or I can have you thrown out." In actuality, Khalid was wrong. Ardeth would have wandered about in the sand whether he had to or not.

"If it is your job to protect Agrabah, you know, you kind of fail."

"Why's that, Mr. Wellington? I gave you a map in a language you can't read. Oh, and good luck enlisting people. I'll remind them of the Hamunaptra fiasco if you get them."

"Fine! I'll find English people who read Arabic and aren't as susceptible to your superstitious notions!"

"You're welcome to try."

"Why aren't you outright destroying the map or fighting me?"

"Mr. Wellington, I am sure you enjoy a challenge. People who look for nonexistent cities generally do."

"I suppose that's true."

"Well, I myself enjoy a challenge. Unfortunately, against one such as you, I have to give myself a bit of a handicap or it's not really a challenge at all."

"Just you wait, Dr. el-Hibri! I'll find Agrabah if it's the last thing I do!"

Khalid smiled. He'd turned to a fascinating page of the History that depicted a slender, elaborately dressed man sitting on a throne with cobra decorations. Unfortunately, he realized, it would take him quite a while to decipher Agrabi Arabic, but he could definitely read the illustration's caption, which said "Jafar, the wicked usurper." Khalid wondered if this was the reason Agrabah was rumored to be dangerous. Perhaps the wicked usurper had laid a curse on the city? Or been subjected to one himself? Whatever it was, Khalid was sure it would make Mr. Wellington's expedition miserable. And, for now, that was just fine with him.

_Author's Note: I'm fudging my art history here; there likely wouldn't have been illustrations in a book from the time period I've ascribed to Agrabah. There would have been books, and it's not impossible for very old books to have survived, but they simply would not have been illustrated books. However, considering that this is an Aladdin/The Mummy crossover, meticulous accuracy about the Middle East was going to be a lost cause whether I fudged my art history or not._


	4. Rendezvous at AlAzhar

**Chapter 2. The next day. Cairo**.

Khalid was sitting in his office looking at the history of Agrabah. A museum worker knocked on the door. "Come in," called Khalid.

"Hello, Director."

"What are you here for, Bob? Is that blasted treasure hunter back again? If he sets foot in my office without any artifacts I will…well, you see that Turkish saber on the wall? Let's just say it won't be the first time I've used it." It wouldn't be, but only because he'd used it to open a particularly difficult box.

"Dunno what you're talking about, boss. Anyway, there's this bloody bird trying to get in. The cleaning ladies have been chasing after it with brooms all day."

"Is it a falcon, Bob?"

"I think. Having trouble seeing it, with the brooms and all."

"Take me to where this bird is." Bob led Khalid to a museum door, where a cleaning lady was waving a broom in the air.

"That's quite enough, Huda. This bird belongs to a friend." Khalid took a thick leather glove out of his pack and put it on. After he whistled to the bird, the bird perched on his arm.

"Good bird," he said to the bird. To the mystified Bob he said, "Magnificent creatures, falcons. This one delivers messages." He looked at the falcon's foot and saw that there was indeed a message there.

"Really? Well, you'd best come in here, my feathered friend, while I read this. Carry on, Huda. And Bob? Weren't you supposed to be giving a tour today?"

Bob skittered off, and Huda resumed sweeping the doorstep. Khalid went into his office with the falcon still on his wrist, and took the message off his foot.

_El-Hibri: Meet me in the courtyard of el-Azhar at midnight. Ardeth._

"That says el-Azhar, right, little fellow?" he asked the falcon.

If a falcon could shrug, it would have.

"Well, executive decision, it says el-Azhar, and if that's where I am at midnight and Ardeth wanted me somewhere else it's his own damn fault for thinking he can write English competently."

"Why do you have to be at el-Azhar at midnight, Dr. el-Hibri?"

"Why do you have to be in my office when you're supposed to be giving a tour, Bob?"

"Lost the museum plans, Dr. el-Hibri. Was hoping you had some in your office."

"Bob, for god's sake call me Khalid, you've been here longer than I have."

"Yes Dr. Khalid."

"It's…an improvement. Here are some museum guides for your group." Bob walked off.

Khalid looked at the falcon. "Been here longer than I have and still loses museum plans. Well, that's a Brit for you."

The falcon nodded its head, and Khalid laughed. After writing a note on a tiny scrap of paper, he rolled it up and strapped it to the falcon's leg. He then walked to the window and flung it open. The falcon flew away.

At midnight, Khalid drove through the narrow streets of Cairo from the museum to the old university, and after parking nearby walked into the courtyard. There, leaning against a pillar, was a tall bearded man holding the falcon Khalid had sent the message with.

"Ardeth! You didn't make this easy! I could hardly read the message!"

"My apologies. I shall write in Arabic next time. I take it you received my present?"

"The History of Agrabah? How did you find it?"

"Interesting story about that. Apparently the Medjai have had it for centuries."

"Then why couldn't you have given it to the museum earlier?"

"Does the word _Hamunaptra_ mean anything to you, Dr. el-Hibri?"

"Why of course it does."

"Then you will understand why, for much of my life and the lives of my men, we were not exactly concerned with Agrabah. I think, however, the telling of the story of how we found this book should be left to Amira."

Khalid then noticed Amira, a tall curvy woman with thick black hair, standing by a fountain. He had met her only once; she and Ardeth had been married nearly a year ago, and Khalid had gone to the wedding but left because of pressing museum business. He remembered two things about the wedding; one, that he had rather awkwardly compared Amira to a statue of Hatshepsut he had found recently, and two, that Amira had taken the oath of the Medjai as well as her wedding vows and given an impressive swordfighting demonstration to show she could fulfill it.

"Oh, hello, Amira. You know, I am sorry I left your wedding early, I never quite found out how you met her."

"She is from a tribe that lives near Hamunaptra and raises falcons. When I lost my falcon, I went to her family to get another one. Just as I was planning to leave, there were some bad sandstorms and I had to stay."

"He only stayed for a week, but before he really left, he decided to ask my father for my hand."

"They were flattered, but her father told me 'You will have to fight for her.' I asked 'Were you planning to fight?' He said, 'No. You will have to fight Amira.'"

"I had made a vow that until a man could prove he was a better sword fighter than myself, I would not marry him. I had defeated some men already."

"I can't imagine you could have defeated Ardeth, though."

"Yes, but by then I didn't want to. So when it looked to all the world like I was going to win, I tripped on a rock. And since then we have been very happy together. That is enough of our story, so tell me a little something about yourself, Khalid. If you have to guard Agrabah, why are you here? It seems impossible to guard a city in Syria when you are in Egypt."

"I sort of have to stop trouble before it starts. If anyone wants to start an expedition to Agrabah and wants help from the Cairo Museum—and I don't see why they wouldn't, we have some excellent archaeologists, and at a closer distance to the lost city—then I have to, well, provide the _opposite_ of help. Rest assured people with more military capacities than I are posted at the site of the city. Ardeth tells me you found the History of Agrabah?"

"Yes. I was looking through things at the fort—it's horribly disorganized, thanks to _Ardeth_—and found this old book. I thought it might be important. Oh, and this papyrus note fell out of it."

"You have a fort?" asked Khalid.

"Yes, it's in the desert. It was built not so long ago. We never needed a fortress until foreigners arrived and began digging in things that did not concern them. Perhaps you'll have occasion to go there, although I hope for your sake you will not," Ardeth told him. Khalid muttered something about hating the desert.

"Amira, you didn't leave the note inside the book?"

"I'll take it," said Khalid. He took it and began reading it. "This just says what it is. 'In the year of the Hijra 658 a young boy from Agrabah entrusted the Medjai with this book and the guardianship of the city. The legend has it that a vengeful jinn will destroy whoever finds his lamp. As far as I can tell we are mentioned in the prophecy.' A _jinn_? Ardeth, I think we're in over our heads here. I mean, I thought mummies were serious business, but jinn—they're _legendary_. And I've only begun making headway on the book. I haven't found a prophecy."

"On the bright side, the jinn will _only_ destroy the person who finds his lamp," said Amira. "Why don't you let that annoying British person find it?"

"How do you know about the annoying British person?"

"We were in Cairo picking up supplies yesterday. Ardeth sent me to the museum in hopes I could find you to deliver the History in person, but I couldn't find you, so I had to put it in the storeroom. On my way out I saw a British treasure hunter arguing with some of the museum workers."

"Well, there was one. I don't know what to do. On one hand, I'm supposed to guard Agrabah, but on the other, I just have no sympathy for this fellow and don't care if a jinn eats him. Amira, you don't mince words. 'Treasure hunter' is just the thing to call him."

"Just the thing to call all of them. You think they poke around in our tombs and temples because they care about Egypt?"

"Rick and Evy were good people, Amira."

"Oh yes, _Rick and Evy_. Getting praise for having the decency to stay around and clean up a mess they made in the first place."

"Regardless, they _did_ clean it up, and have nothing but respect from me."

"I doubt you'll have any reason to respect this Wellington character," said Khalid.

"We still ought to warn him away from the city. If only because of the damage someone who wasn't careful with a jinn's lamp could do to everyone _else_."

"But how do we know when he's getting close to the city?" asked Khalid. "I have important museum-type business to tend to, and I'm sure you have important…Medjai-type business. So we can't exactly go wandering about with him."

"I'll make sure that the Guardians of Agrabah know someone is coming," said Ardeth.

"I hope we don't upset them."

"If they are anything like I was, Dr. el-Hibri, they'll thank God for the chance to actually do something."

"Well, I hope you're right. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, so I'll be heading back home now." He began walking off.

"Should we send a message to the Guardians of Agrabah?" asked Amira.

"We have to. Unfortunately my falcon won't recognize them. I'll have to send one of the men out and hope he reaches the lost city before the treasure hunters."

"There is no question he will. We aren't trying to make those things with wheels go through the desert, or carrying more gear than we need."

"The automobiles are quite fast, but I think a fast rider has an advantage over them in the sand. _Insh'allah._"

The next morning one of the best riders among the Medjai was given a falcon and rations of food personally prepared by Amira, and sent out with another map to look for the lost city. Meanwhile, Khalid kept an eye on Joseph, who was recruiting an archaeological crew. While stories of Hamunaptra scared off a few would-be adventurers, many men stayed on with the treasure hunter, and Khalid realized just how much of a challenge he had taken on.

_Author's Note: A.H. 658 is or mostly overlaps A.D. 1261; I had to use Hijri because I couldn't see thirteenth-century Medjai using A.D. But I'll try to keep Hijri dates to the History of Agrabah and to Jafar (not that Jafar is actually Muslim, but Hijri would still be the only calendar he's familiar with) and give the equivalents when I do use them. _


	5. Traveling to Damascus

**Chapter 3. Several weeks later. Somewhere in Egypt**.

It was early morning. In a small stone fortress that had been cobbled together from bits and pieces of Egyptian ruins more than a hundred years ago, a young acolyte tiptoed through the halls. He had been the first to see, from the window, a messenger falcon land on a post outside, but between his room and the courtyard lay Amira's room. It wouldn't do to wake Amira, at least before you had the message. So, he put on a thick pair of socks and tiptoed down the corridor. He soon reached the courtyard and took the message off the falcon. It said something about Agrabah, which was clearly not a real city. Or was it?

Going back inside the city, the novice knocked on his commander's door. Sadly it was also Amira's, but in a situation of urgency the woman would likely be forgiving.

It was she who opened the door, a cloak wrapped around her, over a long nightgown that had, at some point, perhaps, been white, but was now decidedly off-white, or just _off_, in that it did not seem like something that Amira would be wearing and yet she _was_. Perhaps Ardeth had bought it for her in Cairo, but it no longer looked fit to be seen in the city, being, as it were, torn in at least three spots and splattered with blood that, Amira had assured everyone, was not hers.

"Novice Wassim? What are you doing here? It is not yet eight o'clock! Training will not begin for another two hours!" she whispered.

"Yes but a falcon just landed in the courtyard and has an urgent message for Master Ardeth! Is he in?"

"Of course he is, but I see no need to wake him up. Hand me that message."

"It's about something called Agrabah, and it says to deliver it personally!"

"Which I will be doing. Now hand it over."

"Good morning, Novice Wassim. Have you brought coffee?"

"Oh. I suppose he is awake," said Amira. "If that message is from who you say it is, we have a busy day ahead of us. Allow me to prepare the coffee and you can deliver the message." Amira left the room, and Novice Wassim stepped inside the room.

It was almost disillusioning. On a theoretical level, Novice Wassim knew that his commander had to eat, sleep, and wash like everyone else. But on another level, he almost wasn't expecting the dirty washbasin with _feathers_ floating in it, or the cloak thrown haphazardly on the floor. Or the same man he'd never seen in any state but fully prepared for battle now half-asleep (to say nothing of half-_dressed_), his hair a tangled mess (or perhaps more correctly, _even more_ of a tangled mess). Oh, he was awake enough to have said hello to Wassim, but he looked slightly confused and slightly like he'd go back to sleep if not given coffee or urgent information. Wassim had no coffee.

"Master Ardeth, I truly hate to intrude like this, but something came up. Do you know where Agrabah is? Because this message says one of our Medjai found it and found the guardians of Agrabah, but this treasure-hunting person is due to arrive there any day now too."

"Let me see that. I can only hope Amira comes back soon with the coffee. We're going to need it."

"But there's no way you can get to the city before the treasure hunter!" the novice protested, but regardless, he handed over the message.

"Yes, there is, Novice Wassim. You see, this message also says that the treasure hunter is currently in Damascus."

"So if _you_ get to Damascus while he's still there, you can slow him down long enough to get to Agrabah before him!"

"Yes. It's still going to be difficult to get to Damascus in time. He won't want to tarry there."

When Amira came back with coffee, she read the message as well. "This could have been sent days ago!" she said. "We have no way of knowing he's still in Damascus!"

"We need an airplane, Amira."

"I told you I wouldn't go in one of those!"

"You don't have to. Khalid knows where we can get one, and he and I will go. I need someone to continue training the novices, after all."

"I don't understand why you even keep training them. Why we're even here. Your friend Rick killed that mummy off for good, and there aren't any like him. What are Medjai _for_ anymore?"

"I ask myself that question frequently, Amira, but I always find an are other secrets of Egypt that will always need protecting. And secrets of other places as well. Agrabah was entrusted to us by its own prince. I will not let them down."

"In that case, I will not let you down, either. The novices' training will not suffer while you're gone."

"Thank you, Amira. Now, I need to get to Cairo. Quickly."

After kissing Amira on the cheek, he got up, threw on a robe and boots, and ran outside the fortress to the courtyard. The fortress was not very far from Cairo, and took only a short time to reach on horseback. When Ardeth arrived at the museum, Khalid was just getting in.

"Khalid! We need the airplane!"

"What, no 'Hello,' or 'How are you, Khalid'? Just 'Khalid! We need the airplane!'"

"The treasure hunter has already reached Damascus. Without an airplane we have no hope of getting to Agrabah in time to stop him."

"But aren't there those other Guardians of Agrabah?"

"They requested my help. I just received an urgent message."

"And you want the airplane?"

"I do not _want_ the airplane, Khalid. I _need _the airplane."

"Problem is…the owner's out of town. Dr. Robinson is in Paris, and he didn't say when he was coming back."

"You said the owner, not the pilot."

"The man Dr. Robinson typically hires to pilot the plane is still in Cairo. Are you suggesting we persuade him to fly the plane?"

"Unless you can fly it yourself, yes."

"Well, I can't fly it myself, and I'm guessing you can't."

"Then we have to find the pilot."

"I have to say, I do not like this plan. The pilot is very good, and can surely get us to Damascus safely, but if Dr. Robinson comes back and finds out he's taken the plane without his permission, and for _you_, he won't be happy."

"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission."

"Say, I thought you knew that fellow with the dirigible, what happened to him?"

"_O'Connell_ knew that fellow with the dirigible. While I became reasonably well-acquainted with him, I do not know where he lives or where he stores the dirigible."

"So I guess it's find this airplane pilot or nothing, then." Khalid sighed. "I just don't want to get in more trouble with Dr. Robinson, and I don't want the pilot to get in any trouble with him."

"Claim I stole the airplane and tied you to the seat."

"But…you're not going to."

"No, but it's the kind of thing Dr. Robinson would _believe_ I would do. I'm a scruffy, dishonorable Bedouin with a head full of superstitious nonsense, remember? Stealing his airplane to go after a genie of all things? It's something he'll believe more than the truth."

The truth was, of course, that Khalid went to see the airplane pilot, and after some negotiations, the pilot agreed to fly the plane to Damascus.

"Backup plan if Robinson catches us?" he said.

"This fine fellow here will take the fall," said Khalid, indicating Ardeth. "Robinson already believes the worst of him."

"I'm seeing a problem."

"And what is that?"

"Plane's a two-seater. We've got three. Should I leave the fragile academic behind, sir?" the pilot asked of Ardeth.

"I happen to need him,thank you very much. Now, fragile academic, go inside the museum and see if you can find any gear you can strap me to the wing with."

"That's…that's insane!" said Khalid, going no closer to the museum.

"I've done it before."

"Not with me, you haven't. I'm not letting anyone fly on the wings of someone else's plane. Too dangerous."

"…Khalid can sit on my lap?"

"He'll be half outside the plane!"

"The plane looks like I'd be half outside it just sitting on the seat. I'll be fine."

"You do have a point there. Your dignity, no, but a point, yes."

"I would feel much more undignified to be left here like a child," said Khalid. "All right, so there is that big gate back there, you can roll the plane out through that, and there should be enough space nearby to take off."

"There is. Now, you two are going to have to find your own way back from Damascus, because I can't stay there for very long."

"That's acceptable," said Khalid. "I don't want Dr. Robinson to find out his plane was taken without his permission. Make sure to refuel it as well."

The pilot put on a hat and a set of goggles, and handed similar equipment to his passengers before climbing into the plane. After Ardeth had gotten into the plane and Khalid had taken off his regular eyeglasses to put on the goggles, he climbed in and, as directed, sat on Ardeth's lap in the plane's second seat.

"Can you see with me up here?" Khalid asked the pilot.

"Well enough. You're going to want to hang on tight to something. I've never tried to take two passengers before. Let alone take passengers without Dr. Robinson's permission. If there's so much as a speck of dust in this plane, it'll be all our arses."

Khalid picked up a feather from the floor. "I'm guessing feathers aren't welcome either," he said, tossing it out. "Now I wonder who could possibly have tracked _that_ in here."

"Amira complains about me leaving feathers everywhere too," said Ardeth with a smile. "I can't help it, Isis is molting."

"You named your new falcon _Isis_?"

"Amira named her. She admits it was a bit out of order since my first falcon was named Horus, but she claimed Isis was the best falcon in Egypt. She said only I deserved to carry her."

"Um, are you two just going to talk all day? No talking while the plane's moving!" said the pilot.

"Carry on then, and we won't," said Khalid.

The plane moved, and the passengers' mouths did not. Khalid held very tight to the plane with one hand and to Ardeth with the other, even before the plane took off.

They arrived in Damascus after a fairly uneventful flight, and Khalid jumped out of the plane, then helped Ardeth out of it. After they took off their goggles and hats (which had a rather amusing effect on Ardeth's hair), Khalid gave the pilot, still sitting in the plane, what was left of the money in his wallet.

"The fee you normally charge, and extra for hazard pay."

"There weren't any hazards, but thank you anyway."

"If Dr. Robinson figures out that the plane was taken out of the courtyard, _that_ will be a hazard."

"But now you have no money," said the pilot.

"We'll manage," Khalid said. "Please get the plane back to Cairo as soon as possible so that Dr. Robinson doesn't find anything out." The pilot went back in the plane and left.

"We'll manage. We'll _manage_. I can't believe I just said that." He kicked a rock in frustration. "Manage in a strange city with no money, and no idea where our target is? Well, it was your idea to take the airplane, so you had better have another idea."

"We find a hotel."

"But we can't stay in one, we have no money!"

"We find a hotel to ask where _Mr. Wellington _is. _We_ sleep in the mosque courtyard."

"Oh. That makes perfect sense. But why would a hotel know where Mr. Wellington was if he wasn't staying at it?"

"Perhaps we'll be lucky. If not, we head straight for the site of Agrabah tomorrow."

"You have the map?" asked Khalid.

"I thought you had the map!"

Khalid checked his pockets. "I could have sworn I had the map! It must have fallen out on the flight."

Ardeth pulled one out of his own pocket. "Here. I drew a copy before I gave you the History."

"I was not aware your skills included cartography."

"You learn how to do these things when you're stationed in the middle of the desert watching a dead city. You learn how to do a _lot_ of things when you're stationed in the middle of the desert watching a dead city. Not all of them practical in the immediate sense. This one was."

"I think in the circumstances I would take up a musical instrument," mused Khalid.

"What makes you think I didn't? Oh, there are probably people in the city far more gifted than I am, but Amira says I'm a fairly decent oud player, all things considered."

"So…you learned how to make maps, play the oud and presumably speak English, but you never learned how to write it?"

"Never learned how to write it _well_."

"Never learned how to write it _so's anyone but you can read it_."

"That's assuming I _can_ read it."

"All right, enough of this. Let's just go looking for our wayward British treasure hunter."

It was easier than they thought. As they walked through the city, a young man came running up to Khalid. He was carrying a set of excavation tools, and wearing a fedora awkwardly over his long curly hair.

"Dr. el-Hibri!"

"Feisal?" To Ardeth, he said, "Feisal was an intern of mine, before Dr. Robinson fired him."

"For what?"

"Insubordinance," said Feisal, with a sly smile. "Meaning in this case, I put salt in his coffee because he thought getting him coffee was my only purpose. Anyway, I don't know what brings you to Damascus, Dr. el-Hibri, but I'm here with Joseph Wellington. To tell you the truth, he's not much better than Dr. Robinson, and I think he's a complete scoundrel, but work is work, and maybe if I find something amazing and bring it back the museum will hire me again."

"You'd have to find something beyond amazing for Dr. Robinson to take you back. Listen, I don't want you to get hurt or inconvenienced, but you need to tell me and my friend here where Mr. Wellington is staying."

"That hotel right over there. He's asked me to watch the equipment and the vehicles though, so I have to sleep outside."

"You're going to have to find an excuse for leaving the vehicles alone," said Khalid. "We think Wellington is treading dangerous waters, and it would be in everyone's best interest if the Medjai stopped him."

"You brought Medjai with you? How many?"

"Only one, but he's Ardeth Bey."

"I don't fancy Wellington's chances. Do whatever you want to the vehicles." Feisal walked off.

"Your reputation precedes you."

"And exceeds me, I'm afraid," sighed Ardeth. "I wonder what the O'Connells have been telling people."

Khalid looked at the vehicles with confusion. "All right, I know how to use a car, so I've got one up on you, but I don't think I know how to sabotage one."

"I know _that_. So we're even."

"So what are you going to do?"

"You want things to be so complicated all the time, Khalid. I will do something simple that will, nevertheless, buy us all the time we need."

Ardeth drew his sword and slashed the left front tire of Joseph's car.

"That's just what I thought you would do. And that's what I'm worried about, because it's what Joseph will think you would do, and now he knows who killed his car."

"We'll get a head start on him while he's replacing the tire."

"We don't have any horses. Do you think we could steal those motorcycles?"

"I would love to, but they simply will not work in the desert."

"I feel like something is wrong here. _I _suggested a crazy idea, and _you_ didn't like it."

"If I am crazy, than so are you for following me."

"I'm sure Dr. Robinson would think so. He would be livid that you have led me away from the path of soulless skepticism that I was never on. But right now I feel very unsure about you. We have no car, we have no plane, we have no horses, and if we tried to walk to Agrabah we'd never make it before them. You had better think of something."

"By tomorrow morning, I will have."

They walked through the city to the old mosque and into its courtyard.

"I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly in the habit of sleeping in mosque courtyards," said Khalid.

"And it seems…dissonant to be here at all when we just wrecked cars and contemplated stealing them."

"I did most of the wrecking, and it is not permanent damage. Besides, it was for the greater good. I would have words with a god who disagreed."

_I don't think the men here are going to start preaching the Ardeth Bey school of theology any time soon_, Khalid thought, but then he thought a great number of things he'd never say, most of them about Dr. Robinson. And Ardeth frightened Khalid much more than Dr. Robinson did, in spite of the fact that, theoretically, Ardeth was Khalid's best friend.

Khalid settled for, "This may be why I'm not supposed to associate with you. That made _sense_."

"You ought to go to sleep. I have one more thing to settle." Ardeth took his turban off, bundled it up, and handed it to Khalid to use as a pillow before leaving the courtyard.

When he came back, Khalid was lying down, shivering, but very nearly asleep. Ardeth hastily untied his cloak and threw it over Khalid before lying down, curled up like a giant cat, in the courtyard.


	6. A Skirmish in Agrabah

**Chapter 4. The next day. Damascus**.

In the morning, Khalid woke up, to see Ardeth washing his face in the courtyard fountain. He handed back the cloak and turban, and said "Thank you. I didn't sleep well at all, but it helped. I don't suppose we have time for coffee."

"No time at all." There was, however, time for Khalid to clean his glasses.

They walked out of the courtyard and were greeted by a man who was leading two camels.

"You went asking for _camels_ last night?" asked Khalid.

"He's a guardian of Agrabah. The same one who told me Wellington was in Damascus. He fills the same position you do in Cairo, since Damascus is the closest modern city to the site of Agrabah. I went to see him and he told me that he could get me two camels."

"I would be more comfortable with a horse," said Khalid. "I've ridden horses a few times, since some of my friends in university were equestrians, but I have to say I've never ridden a camel."

"I'll take this camel back and give him a horse," said the guardian of Agrabah.

Once a horse had been procured for Khalid, Ardeth got the map and the two of them proceeded on their way to Agrabah.

Meanwhile, Joseph had found the unpleasant surprise Ardeth had left him, and was yelling at Feisal.

"How does this happen? _How_ does this happen? I tell you to watch the cars, and you can't even do that. Did you fall asleep on the job?"

"No sir. I was frightened away."

"Frightened away? You're taller and heavier than I am! I hired you specifically to guard things, and you can't guard them! What frightens _you_ away?"

"Oh, you know, the usual things, snakes, spiders, Ardeth Bey, hyenas, Ardeth Bey, jackals, scorpions, very large cats and oh, I'm sorry, I think I forgot to mention _Ardeth Bey_."

"No need for the sarcasm, Feisal."

"So you believe me sir?"

"Oh, definitely. Some of the spiders out here are horrific."

"That was, I hope, sarcasm too, unless you think a spider cut your wheel open to prevent you from going to Agrabah."

"Yes, Feisal, that was sarcasm too. Help me change these wheels, every car's got at least one slashed tire and this car over here's got two." Feisal started helping to change the wheels, but through the whole process he was not quite sure Joseph hadn't deserved what he'd gotten.

However, even with the delay to change tires, the archaeologists still got to Agrabah slightly before Khalid and Ardeth. Fortunately, the archaeologists had set up camp, but had not yet begun to dig.

"So what do we do now?" said Khalid, watching from a hilltop. "I don't think we can charge in there, just the two of us, and do any damage."

"I was not planning on it."

Khalid sighed with relief that at least the Ardeth Bey school of tactics was sounder than the school of theology.

"We find the Guardians of Agrabah. It is early yet. At night, we attack."

"That's a bit unfair, don't you think? I mean, you'll be virtually invisible, and they'll be sleeping."

"The difference between fair fighting and unfair fighting is that unfair fighting works. Besides…not fighting in the dark would be unfair to _me_, as I am more used to the cover of darkness."

"Oh, I see. Well, pardon me for not reading that chapter of _How to Be A Medjai._"

"There is no such book, Dr. el-Hibri."

"Right, but if there was, _you'd_ probably have written it, so I wouldn't be able to read it anyway."

"I would not have written it in English."

Later that night, the Guardians of Agrabah had assembled. They were armed with a variety of weapons; some ordinary guns and swords were present, but one had a homemade crossbow and another held up a large skillet.

"You brought a frying pan? Ardeth, tell this man he can't just show up with a frying pan!"

"Clearly he _can_ because he _did_. Who am I to tell him he _may_ not? Anyone who says a frying pan is not a weapon has not met my wife Amira!"

"I do apologize for the frying pan, sir. My gun was out of ammunition, so I had to grab the nearest thing I could hit someone with."

"None of us have actually had to fight any archaeologists, sir," said the one with the crossbow. "Most of us live in a nearby village and do other things. Nobody ever comes looking for Agrabah."

"No matter. If you can wield the weapon you came with, you're good enough."

"Although I feel embarrassed to be in the presence of the great Ardeth Bey with nothing but a frying pan. I didn't know you had asked for _him_ to show up, Commander Rahim," the skillet wielder said to the much better-prepared Agrabah guard leader.

"So…you'd be perfectly all right to be in your _own_ commander's presence with only a skillet?" Khalid said.

"Er…well…"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Well, I know Commander Rahim. He'd let me show up with a frying pan."

"What did the great Ardeth Bey do?" asked the great Ardeth Bey.

"Let me show up with a frying pan?" the not-so-great guard said, as a look of realization came over him.

"Now, nobody wants that archaeologist to find the lamp. You fellows don't want him to find it because it would make you failures. Ardeth doesn't want him to find it because the book was entrusted to the Medjai and he's not going to break a promise his ancestors made to the prince of Agrabah himself." Khalid knew who the promise was really to, but sometimes you need a prince to rally people. A vizier's son, no matter how clever, just won't do.

"And I don't want him to find it because I don't want to be shown up by that greedy, conniving bastard of a treasure hunter." Khalid immediately realized that he should leave the leading to Ardeth. He could not have done worse if he had literally said "now go out there and die." The guards responded to the limp pep talk as he had expected. They stood there.

"Ardeth, would you?" asked Khalid.

"What Khalid meant to say was, attack!" said Ardeth. He grabbed Khalid's glasses and handed them to him. Khalid put them in a satchel, but was very annoyed.

"You know, I don't look any better without them, and I _see_ a good deal worse!" Unlike people who look better without their glasses, Khalid just looked like someone who should be wearing glasses.

"You'd see even worse if they were broken for good, Dr. el-Hibri! Now, join the charge! You did not think I would let a Medjai languish in a museum when he could be tasting battle!" Khalid didn't think battle tasted very good.

Khalid's feelings aside, the orders had been given, and the guards, with Khalid bringing up the rear, charged into the archaeologists' camp, guns firing, swords (and frying pans) waving.

"What the bloody hell?" asked Joseph Wellington, stumbling sleepily out of his tent.

"We're under attack, boss. Medjai. About fifteen of them," said a young crewman, reaching for his gun and shooting.

"No, _aim_ before you shoot," grumbled Joseph. "What the hell are Medjai doing _here_, we're not in Egypt."

"They're not technically Medjai," said Feisal. I believe they are Guardians of Agrabah, sir. Well, that's Ardeth over there, and I think that's Dr. Khalid el-Hibri, he's the only one in a suit—oh, well _done_ Dr. el-Hibri, that tent shan't attack _you_ again!—but the rest of them aren't Medjai. But they do still want to get us to leave, sir."

"Oh, bugger," said Joseph.

"There is no need to be frightened," Khalid said. He was lying. There was all the need in the world to be frightened, particularly if you were a Ph.D. in Egyptology who had never seen battle. But if Khalid could convince _himself_ he wasn't afraid, maybe he could convince _Joseph_ to not be afraid.

"I'll say there is," Joseph said, before using a long gun to parry a swordsman's attack.

A crossbow bolt pierced Joseph's hat and went flying with it, but left Joseph unharmed. Joseph looked around, and saw Ardeth handing a crossbow back to its rightful owner, then dismounting a horse to approach him.

"The last time I had to warn archaeologists like you away from a place like this, many of them died and the world almost ended. Heed my warning or you could end up just like them. Leave Agrabah by sunset tomorrow."

"Sod off, Bey. We're not leaving."

The crew looked apprehensive. Somehow, there was a nagging voice in the back of their heads that told them that what Joseph had done was very stupid. At least that librarian some years back had only defied orders. She hadn't actually said—and would probably never _think_ of saying—"Sod off, Bey. We're not leaving."

"Maybe we should listen to him, boss. I heard about that crew at Hamunaptra. Woke up an ancient mummy or something."

"We're not leaving. I _checked_ the local legends. No cursed mummies here."

"You apparently didn't check the local legends well enough. There's an evil genie's lamp," said Khalid.

"And why is that your problem? Won't it just, if it's actually evil, corrupt our wishes and ruin us?"

"Possibly. But in the wrong hands it would still be an instrument of misery and disaster. We'd rather you not find it." _We'd rather you not find it? _It was, Khalid thought, the weakest ultimatum in the history of ultimata. Why, oh why, did he have to open his big mouth all the time? He wondered if, tomorrow morning, he should just tell Ardeth "Maybe I don't wanna be a Medjai anymore." That is, if it would still be up to him after this kind of failure.

"And we'd rather _find_ it."

"So it seems we've reached an impasse," said one of Joseph's crew.

"Why don't you just shoot me and solve your problem right there?" asked Joseph.

"I was hoping it would not come to that. I see no reason there can't be a peaceful solution."

"You want a peaceful solution? You're wearing a gun and two swords!"

"Having to use swords does not mean enjoying it," Ardeth said solemnly.

"You won't have your peaceful solution."

"You have until sunset tomorrow. You will be killed if you do not leave."

The archaeologists went back into their tents, and Ardeth said something to the Agrabah guards. Everyone then rode out of the camp; the guards departed for the nearby village, and Khalid and Ardeth returned to their hilltop.

Khalid, in some confusion, looked at Ardeth. "Are you really going to shoot them tomorrow?"

"No. Commander Rahim is going to shoot them tomorrow. I gave him the order. _We_ are going to return to Egypt."

"Why leave it up to Commander Rahim?"

"Because Commander Rahim needs to do something to make him think Agrabah still needs protecting and he can do it. I know how he feels, Khalid, and I am not going to usurp his victory. We leave for Egypt in the morning. That is final."

"What if he can't do it?"

"Then I suppose it will be up to the genie to dispose of Wellington."

"So did Rahim _tell_ you all this stuff about needing to do something here?"

"He didn't need to tell me. I knew because he said 'Nobody ever comes looking for Agrabah.' Do you want to know what I said twelve years ago?"

"Um, let me guess, 'Nobody ever comes looking for Hamunaptra,' and right after you said that, somebody did, and you got to chase them out."

"_Exactly_. I am not going to take this away from Rahim, because I see myself in him."

"And what happens if he doesn't succeed? Then we're going to have to get involved again. I wish you would just shoot Wellington and be done with it. I want to get out of the desert, go back to my museum, and forget about all this nonsense before Dr. Robinson has my head. And you're just _leaving_, because you think Rahim, who admits to having never seen battle before today, who lets his men carry _frying pans_ as weapons, can handle it."

"If I recall correctly, the man with a frying pan knocked out two members of Joseph's crew. They may not be as well-trained as my Medjai, but Commander Rahim has fine men at his disposal, and I will not hear any questioning of him from an academic who can only shoot tents. We are going back to Egypt. It is what is best for all of us."

"Yes, especially that rat bastard of a pseudo-archaeologist who's not going to leave and who's not going to be killed by Commander Rahim."

"If he finds that lamp, God help him. From what I know of evil jinn, being shot would be more merciful."

"Oh, I do hope you're right. Let's go back to Egypt."

_Author's Note: That thing about genies not being able to kill anyone? Yeah, Aladdin made that up. There are entire Arabian Nights stories built on trying to __**avoid**__being killed by a genie. Now, Jafar __**is**__ still going to play by the genie rules from Aladdin, but since Ardeth has no way of knowing those rules, seeing as they don't feature in any genuine Arabic folklore (even the "three wishes" concept is modern; the original story of Aladdin featured unlimited wishes), he's justified in thinking an evil jinn is a really horrible thing to run across. And Jafar is going to prove him right, despite not being able to kill…_


	7. The Lamp

**Chapter 5. The site of Agrabah. The next day.**

Joseph's crew had set all their equipment up; one enterprising fellow had even begun digging. Feisal was pacing the perimeter of the dig site anxiously. He didn't think it was such a good idea to stay when they had been told to leave.

When _Ardeth Bey_ had told them to leave.

He didn't think that was a good idea at all. He thought it was an idea only slightly worse than pressing a button labeled _Do Not Press_, or picking up a snake you couldn't identify while saying "well, it doesn't look poisonous."

"Feisal! Stop doing that and get back to work!"

"You hired me as a guard sir. I am doing work. Guarding. You do realize that if they come back we don't stand a chance. We exhausted most of the ammunition last night and didn't even hit anyone. And they have short-range weapons. Do we have any swords with us?"

"Swords are a thing of the past, Feisal. We have superior technology."

"Yes, and that's what I'm worried about. What are we supposed to do when our superior technology runs out of superior ammunition? Ardeth Bey doesn't have to reload a sword."

"Well, punch him in the face, then," said Joseph. He was only half listening to Feisal by then, as he was examining a pottery shard that had just been found. "Worthless. Won't do us any good at all."

"Well, I don't think you have to say _that_ about me," said Feisal.

"I meant this pottery shard, Feisal. Might have that Historical Significance el-Hibri's always yammering on about. We'll give it to him."

"Boss, it's nearly sunset," a crew man said.

"Right! Get the dinner preparations ready and light the lamps!"

"Sunset! Oh, _no_!" said Feisal.

"What, do you turn back into a pumpkin?" asked Joseph.

"No! Look!" He pointed at a hilltop. The Guardians of Agrabah were already assembled on it. Joseph grabbed weapons and handed them out to the crew. Soon, Commander Rahim had led his squadron back into the camp.

"What happened? You sent Ardeth back?"

"Ardeth went back," said Commander Rahim. "This is not his battle to fight."

"Ha! You hear that, men! Let's see how brave they are without him, shall we?"

"And you will." Rahim took aim at Joseph, but before he could shoot him, a member of the crew fired. The shot hit Rahim in the shoulder and knocked him off his horse.

"Well done! Feisal, I notice you're not shooting?"

"Do your own dirty work, Wellington. I told you I feared Ardeth Bey. It was half true. I feared being part of the kind of expedition that went against him. Not because of what he would do, but because that's the wrong kind of expedition to be on. I will not hurt you, but I will not hurt any of these men either." He sat on top of an excavated pillar.

"You people are too honorable for your own good," snarled Joseph. "Now I'll finish off this one!" He grabbed a gun and advanced on Commander Rahim, but one of the guards kicked him aside.

"We must get Commander Rahim to safety!" he said. While Joseph was lying on the ground, this man hit him in the head with the hilt of a sword. "That ought to buy us the time we need. Now, everyone, listen to me. We told you all that you had to leave. You were lucky to have injured our commander so quickly. Your misinformed persistence will be your undoing. We leave you to the jinn. For now, we ride out. Farid, you go first. Take Commander Rahim with you and send a message to Ardeth Bey once you return to the village. Safi and I will see to this camp."

After Farid left, the apparent second-in-command and Safi grabbed torches and set fire to the crew's equipment and their supply tent before riding off with the rest of the Guardians of Agrabah. Feisal's warning had come true; many of Joseph's crew found themselves with empty guns; even those that could reload couldn't do it in time to fight back.

"What do we do now?" said one of them to Feisal.

"We get Mr. Wellington back inside his tent. We rebuild our equipment. And for the love of God, if any of us finds a lamp, we don't rub it. I had a bad feeling about this expedition from the beginning, and only the fact that honor doesn't pay for food is stopping me from running off now."

_**A week later.**_

Despite all warnings, the dig was back in full swing, and several valuable pieces of Agrabi history had already been unveiled. The guardians of Agrabah had not come back.

"Hey boss. I think you ought to come see this."

"Is it valuable? We've found a lot in this city already, but you can never be too rich."

"I don't know what it's worth. It's just...odd."

Joseph walked over to where the crewman indicated. There, lying on the ground, still partly buried in sand, was a dusty old black oil lamp.

"The lamp! I have to say it's a bit less impressive than I thought, but let's see if those stories were true!" It certainly had historical significance, but sending it off to that cocky el-Hibri in Cairo was the furthest thing from his mind, even though he'd promised. He'd send the museum some pottery instead.

"Sir, I have a bad feeling about this. Dr. el-Hibri said it was an _evil_ genie, and I don't think that he would have come out here with Ardeth Bey if there wasn't a serious problem. I don't think we should be disregarding all the stories about Agrabah."

Joseph rolled his eyes. These Arabs would say anything to scare people off, but it wasn't going to work on him, no sir. If that pathetic guard squadron couldn't deter him, _nothing_ was going to.

"I'm only cleaning it, Marshall! No harm ever came from cleaning a lamp!" He pulled the lamp out of the sand, took a clean rag off his stack of gear and began rubbing the lamp.

"Boss, that don't look too good," said a workman, pointing to a red trail of smoke coming out.

"That's just the dust coming off."

"Dust? What mortal dares call ME dust?" asked the trail, which by then had become a cloud then, finally, coalesced into a giant red demon with a sharp nose and a twisted goatee.

Joseph, upon being addressed, looked up and beheld the creature. In spite of the creature's obviously ill-omened appearance, Joseph smiled. "A genie! So the legend that that silly curator told me _was_ true! Well, I still think they only wanted to send me away so they could have the wishes for themselves."

"You have three wishes. I recommend you use the first one to set me free. Otherwise I will bring you nothing but pain and despair."

"Go back in the lamp. I need more time to think about my wishes."

"How'd that thing understand you? It all sounded like Arabic to me," said Marshall.

"The master always understands the genie," said the genie. "So, what shall it be? Promise to set me free, or risk the wrath of Jafar?"

"I told you. I need time. Maybe I won't make any wishes at all and throw you down a well."

"I know people too well. They all have something they must have no matter what the price. Power, money, love—oh, we can't force it, but we can improve your chances, that is, if you get a genie who isn't me—and so forth."

"Go. Back. In. The. Lamp. Wait, I don't have to use a wish for that, do I?"

"No." The genie went back in the lamp. Joseph left it with the rest of the artifacts for the rest of the day.

The next morning, Joseph was awoken by a member of his crew.

"Arnold's been...Arnold's a...You should see this, boss."

Outside Arnold's tent there was a cage with a mongoose in it.

"What happened?" asked Joseph.

"I've got this terrible fear of snakes, see? Can't stand snakes. So I thought, it's a harmless wish, he can't turn that against me. So I rubbed the lamp and when he came out I said 'I wish to be safe from snakes for this entire expedition!' And he turned me into a mongoose! I mean, it worked, I don't fear snakes now since the mongoose brain knows how to kill them, but I'm a mongoose!" said the mongoose.

"Until the expedition is over. At least you didn't say 'for the rest of my life.'"

"End the expedition. See what happens. If I turn human I'll stay with you until we figure out a way to get rid of the genie."

Joseph gathered his crew round.

"Listen up people. In light of recent events, I've decided to seek alternate methods of dealing with this genie. You are all released from your obligations as my crew, excepting any who want to help me with the current problem. The expedition is officially over."

Most of the men picked up their gear and started walking in the direction of their vehicles. Some stayed behind.

"It worked!" said a jubilant man now holding a rodent cage. "I'm human! And I'm staying!"

"All right. The lamp stays with me. Nobody touches it. Nobody _thinks_ too hard about touching it. We're going to go back to Cairo and get to the bottom of this."

"What makes you think Cairo has the answers?"

"The director was looking at the History of Agrabah. And I'm sure he's translated it."

"You didn't bring it along?"

"What good would it do us, we don't speak Arabic," said Joseph.

"Um, boss…we have Feisal."

"Oh. Why didn't you tell me you knew Arabic?"

"I didn't think you needed to be told that Arabs know Arabic, Mr. Wellington. But then, I didn't think you needed to be told that when Ardeth Bey tells you not to dig somewhere, you don't dig there. I have never been sure about this expedition, and now I do not think I should stay."

"Oh, please do. You know about these genie things, right?"

"I know very little about jinn. I know that, like mankind, their numbers include both good and evil, believers and infidels. I know that some of them, usually evil ones, are confined to lamps or bottles. And I know that they have magic powers beyond the comprehension of mortals."

"I was turned into a goddamn _mongoose_, Feisal. I think we know that whole 'magic powers' bit."

Joseph went back into his tent, the lamp still in his satchel. _Well, I'm going to find a way out of this without looking like an idiot_, he thought.

The lamp gleamed temptingly. "Oh, no. I'm not wishing for anything off of you," he said.

The lamp did not reply.

_Well, I suppose if I ask for the right thing…what a fool, only wishing to be safe from snakes! He nearly deserved that! Oh, I've got it. We'll see how el-Hibri and Bey feel after this one!_

Joseph rubbed the lamp. Jafar emerged from it, but after hitting his genie head on the top of Joseph's tent, he shapeshifted into a tall human, wearing a long black robe and a black turban with a bright red feather stuck in it. "Are you more comfortable with this form?" Jafar asked, but in a way that made it sound as if he'd be happier if Joseph wasn't.

"I would have to say no. I've got to say I've never thought of what to do if I met an evil vizier."

"_Pray_," snapped Jafar. "And I am not an evil vizier anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I never thought of what to do if I met an evil genie, either."

"Unfortunately, I am still bound by genie laws. Most prominently, I cannot kill anyone."

"Well, I have a wish. I wish to be famous in Cairo."

_That's not nearly specific enough_, Jafar thought, but would never tell him. _Ah well, if that's really what you want, I'll give it to you._

The genie snapped his fingers. "There. Would you like to see _how_ you are famous in Cairo?"

"Oh yes, very much."

Jafar pulled a mirror out of thin air and showed it to him. In it, he could see a bustling Cairo street, and heard his name being spoken. He waited for a minute to hear the context, and nearly gagged once he did. To make it worse, this was the street the Cairo Museum occupied a prominent position on, and Khalid el-Hibri, riding his bicycle, nearly slammed into a pillar laughing when someone told _him_ the horrible story.

"Oh, don't worry. You can tell him it isn't true if that's someone you care about. I only sparked off a rumor; people can choose for themselves whether to believe it's true."

"I don't _care_ about Khalid el-Hibri as such. I care about his _opinion_, though. And he'll probably never have a good opinion of me again now that everyone in Cairo is thinking I buggered a camel!"

"Did he have a good opinion of you to begin with?"

"Wouldn't you know that? You're supposed to be the all-knowing genie."

"I can know facts, Joseph. I cannot know someone else's feelings. Otherwise, I would know what people really meant with their wishes."

"If only you _did_! I would have thought you'd assume that I wanted to be famous for something _good_!"

"Ah, but you did not say so, Joseph. I became a master of exploiting the loopholes before I was even a genie. You will have to phrase your wishes very, very carefully to get a good result from me. Wouldn't it just be easier to wish me free?"

"No. I may have done bad things in the past—tomb-robbing, shooting a few people, littering—but one bad thing I will not do is unleash the likes of you on the world. I'll hide you away if I can't do anything better."

"If I had known that knowing I was evil would activate so many people's consciences, I'd have taken advantage of it centuries ago to keep the populace in order."

Joseph ordered Jafar back into his lamp, and sat down on his cot, his head slumped down into his hands. The wish had only made the situation _more_ hopeless. _Why, oh why, didn't I listen to Ardeth Bey_, Joseph wondered. Really, though, he didn't have to wonder; he knew why, as much as Ardeth, already back in the Medjai fortress, did. Wanting the wealth of the city was part of it, but so was disregarding warnings because they came from "superstitious natives." _Well, I'll never do that again_, Joseph thought. But that didn't help him right now. Nothing would.

Except possibly a drink. But sooner or later, even that would stop helping.

He had a drink anyway. _Tomorrow, _he thought, _we'll pack up to get out of I'm going to have to stop being an immature prat and ask el-Hibri for some help._ He took the lamp back outside and stashed it in a crate, then asked Feisal to make sure nobody touched it. Feisal nodded.

_Author's Note:1. Yes, I know Genie Jafar's human form wears a red robe. In the sequel that I'm already completely ignoring to make a crossover. I think if he can turn people into mongeese and hypnotize the entire population of Cairo into thinking Mr. Wellington shagged a camel, he can bloody well make his human form wear whatever he wants. 2. Using real genie lore again for what Feisal tells Joseph; not all genies were enslaved or confined, and in fact many confined genies were more likely to be evil than to be the supernatural vending machines Aladdin—the movie more so than the story, but the story too—turns them into. Even free genies weren't necessarily wish granters; the good ones sometimes helped people, but not necessarily by responding to specific demands._


	8. Finally, A Useful Wish, Maybe

**Chapter 6. The next day. Agrabah.**

At about eight in the morning, some of the early risers among the archaeologists were puttering about, making coffee as best they could on camp stoves, or putting on their shoes and socks, after carefully examining them for spiders, scorpions, and, as one unfortunate fellow found, small lizards.

Feisal was sleeping next to the crate that the lamp was in. He had tried very hard not to, because he knew how much of a temptation it was to the crew, and he wanted to dissuade them, but he had, eventually, at about three o'clock in the morning, fallen asleep.

Seeing an opportunity (though not one it really made sense to take, in retrospect), a man grabbed the lamp and rubbed it. Feisal woke up just in time, and tackled him to the ground, yelling, "Andrew, what the hell do you think you're doing!" but it was too late. Jafar had already emerged from his lamp, and was grinning at Andrew.

"I wish for sunken treasure!" Andrew stammered out.

Jafar had to restrain himself from laughing madly. _They make it too easy_, he thought. He picked Andrew up by the back of his jacket, and vanished.

The next Andrew knew, he was underwater, next to a sunken ship. He could see a large treasure chest inside it, but desperately needed air. Jafar was floating in the water next to him.

"I need air," he gurgled, trying to swallow as little water as possible.

"Oh, you meant to ask me to bring the sunken treasure back _up_ for you. My mistake."

Andrew mumbled, "I wish for you to bring me back to Agrabah, safe and sound and dry."

"Your wish is my command. You can even take that with you." Andrew picked up the treasure chest, and soon found himself back in the ruins of the city. Feisal grabbed the treasure chest away from him and slapped him.

"Is there no warning you people will not disregard?" he snarled. "When we realized what we had found, we could have at least ignored it until we learned how to destroy it. You, in your greedy little mind, thought you had some chance of getting anything good from a demon. I hope you learned your lesson. Perhaps he _could_ be tricked into giving someone something good, but it's going to take a more careful wording than 'I wish for sunken treasure.' Nobody touches this lamp now." He handed the lamp to Joseph, who, while carefully avoiding rubbing it, put it into a box with a combination lock and turned the numbers.

Feisal was right. The crew had learned their lesson. They sat, silently, around their campfire, staring at the lamp with fear in their eyes.

"So far that blasted thing's tossed my men in the sea and got half of Cairo thinking I've done improper things with a camel!" burst out Joseph. "There must be some way to get rid of it!"

"Wish for it," said Feisal. "He can't deny you."

"That's it!"

He rubbed the lamp.

"Any chances you're so traumatized by what I've already done that you'll wish me free?" asked Jafar.

"I wish for you to take me to someone who can get rid of you," said Joseph.

"Someone who can get rid of me? But dear boy, I've done nothing but grant you people's wishes! A man among you wished for sunken treasure and I gave it to him! Another wished to be safe from snakes, and I perfectly equipped him for the task! You wished to be well known in Cairo and I made it so!"

"You threw my crew in the sea and gave me a reputation as a pervert who probably can't show his face in Cairo again!"

"All the better. I never liked Cairo, even as a mortal."

"Enough chatter! I made a wish! You know what that means!"

"The irony would be painful. If genies felt pain. Very well. Someone who can get rid of me. You'll be wanting the Medjai. Good luck with them." Jafar clapped his hands and disappeared back into the lamp as Joseph felt himself spinning and moving.

When he stopped he found himself in the middle of the desert, with some of his supplies but none of his crew. He was in the courtyard of a fortress; though there was the stone building, there were also several tents around, as well as a dying campfire. _He _did_ say "the Medjai_," _didn't he_, thought Joseph. _As in, the same people who tried to stop me from finding the lamp at all. This is going to be awkward._

"Hello? Is anyone here? Is anyone awake?"

Within minutes he heard someone stirring. Shortly afterward he heard a gunshot.

"I mean you no harm!" he called, grabbing a lantern from among his supplies and lighting it. Standing where the shot had come from was an Arab woman, almost as tall as Joseph, wearing black robes and a scarf around her head and neck so that only her eyes were visible. It was not the dainty face veil of the odalisques Joseph had seen in paintings, or the carefully arranged hijab of the devout city women. It looked like it was there for practicality, rather than modesty, and for that matter, Joseph could remember Ardeth wearing a scarf almost exactly the same at the battle. But what worried Joseph more was that she was holding a gun that was still pointed at Joseph.

"An Englishman stumbles into my husband's camp, and says he means no harm? _This_ I don't believe," she said, moving the scarf a bit so that she could be heard clearly. Her fingers crept a little closer to the trigger of the gun.

Joseph gulped, and then said something that was sure not to help matters. "Where I'm from, a lady knows her place."

"It is you who do not know what your place is, for I am the wife of Ardeth Bey and offer no kindness to Englishmen!"

"Ardeth Bey? THE Ardeth Bey? By jove, that nasty old genie did something right! I'm saved!" he said. In Egypt, certainly, but saved. There was always a catch, he thought, and apparently this time it was being transported back where he started from and being shot at. And he wasn't even out of trouble yet, seeing that just a short time ago, he had disregarded an order from Ardeth and escaped the Guardians of Agrabah by the skin of his teeth.

"Not so quick, Inglizi! Why do you think that my Ardeth will save you?"

"Because there's this jinn, see," he said, "and I thought it'd grant wishes, and it does, only it's evil so it grants wishes by hurting you and well, I thought you people stopped ancient evils but it looks like all you want to do is shoot at me for being English."

"I thought Englishmen thought jinn was something to drink."

"Haha, very funny. I mean it. I'm sure I've got the lamp in here." He showed her the lamp.

"Oh, you are _that_ Englishman! I told Ardeth he should have shot you. I would have. You are lucky Ardeth could not bring me to Damascus. Well, I suppose we shall have to fetch Khalid. He can help you."

"Is this Khalid el-Hibri, from the Cairo Museum?"

"The very same."

"I was hoping otherwise. We don't like each other very much. But if he can really help me, I will try my best to accept his help. Now be a good girl and fetch Ardeth."

"You think he awakens for pitiful Englishmen? We'll give you a place to sleep, and we'll discuss this in the morning. I'll summon Khalid from Cairo." She walked over to a perch where there was a falcon. After writing something on a piece of paper, tying it to the falcon's leg, and sending the falcon off, she gestured to a man who was keeping watch nearby. "See that the Englishman has a bedroll. And don't let him leave the camp."

Once Joseph had his bedroll, he turned to the woman and said, "Thank you...um, I'm not sure what to call you…Mrs. Bey?"

"My name is Amira."

"Thank you, Amira. And thanks for not shooting directly at me."

"Even Medjai can miss."

Amira walked back into the fortress. The sentry looked at Joseph and said, "I see Amira is being her usual self. Don't try to sleep in the building. Don't even sleep near a window."

Joseph walked far away from the fortress, because of Amira. Well, he supposed Ardeth was in there too, but at the moment he was more concerned with the woman. She seemed a bit trigger-happy.

Inside his lamp, Jafar swore angrily. He had been sure the Medjai would have killed Joseph for intruding. Genies can't kill anyone, but they can certainly set them up to be killed. Even during his mortal life, setting people up to be killed was an area Jafar prided himself on. After all, he was a frail man who could hardly lift a scimitar on a good day, but what did that matter with the kind of political and mental power he'd possessed. It struck him as ironic—and annoyingly so—that he could probably have killed Joseph off more easily as a vizier centuries ago than as a jinn in this strange new time.

_Ah well_, he thought. _Joseph hasn't even met Ardeth yet. Perhaps the leader will be no more fond of him than Amira was._

The next morning, at about seven, Amira had strode across the camp with a bucket of water and thrown it on Joseph's face.

"That water's bloody cold!" spluttered Joseph. "How'd you do that?"

"An ice bucket. Why, how would you do it?" asked a different voice. Joseph put on his spectacles and looked up. Amira was there, or at least, he assumed that the woman was Amira, even though he had only seen her with a scarf on before, and this time her face and her thick black hair were exposed. Ardeth was standing next to Amira, holding a falcon on his wrist. It was slightly bigger than the one Amira had sent off last night, but appeared to be the same species. Not that Joseph knew anything about them. He tended to feel uneasy about the kind of birds that could peck your eyes out or tear your hand to ribbons.

And the kind of people who carried them around like they were harmless little canaries. Even without the falcon, Ardeth would be intimidating; Joseph had _seen_ him, but had not seen him from this vantage point, on his own turf. The sword at his side gleamed menacingly in the sunlight. Joseph was almost more frightened now than he was in Agrabah, and he had been very frightened indeed in Agrabah.

Nevertheless, Joseph stood up. "Pleased to meet you…well, again. Formally. When you're not just trying to tell me to get away from Agrabah. Erm…emphasis on pleased to meet you."

"I cannot truthfully say the pleasure is mine. Amira says you caused her some trouble?"

"Your wife says I caused her trouble? Your wife shot at me!"

"She says you randomly appeared, rambling about a jinn. I suppose next time my friend Dr. el-Hibri tells you there is a cursed lamp you will listen to him."

"The jinn dropped me here! He says his name is Jafar! And he's a nasty bloke, he's a really nasty bloke!"

"Ever heard of Imhotep?"

"Sort of?"

"Rest assured your little problem is nowhere near that nasty."

"Yes, we've all heard of Imhotep, but perhaps we should focus on the present?" asked Joseph.

"No, we should focus on the past. Unless we see the History of Agrabah, we'll never know anything about Jafar. Which is why we've summoned Khalid. I don't know why I gave him the History in the first place."

"But how do we learn anything about a city that everyone thinks is a myth?"

"Ever heard of Hamunaptra?"

"That doesn't count! People _knew_ about Hamunaptra! Your mummy—oops, sorry—probably raised you on stories about it! And of course some people know about Agrabah, but you just found that book right before I started my expedition! It can't possibly have told you anything already!"

"And on that point you are mistaken." Joseph looked over and the person who had said that was none other than Dr. el-Hibri. _Splendid_, he thought. _Just when you think you've hit rock bottom, you find out rock bottom's got a trapdoor in it._

"Khalid. Hello. Do you have the History of Agrabah?"

"As well as the letters from Mrs. O'Connell, yes. The O'Connells very recently arrived in Egypt, and I'm sorry they got here before I could give you these letters. The boy is giving me no end of trouble at the museum, but Evelyn is helping me immensely." After Ardeth pulled some letters out of the dusty old manuscript, he handed it back to Khalid.

"What's the book then?" asked Joseph. "It's the one that was on your desk when I proposed the expedition, wasn't it?"

"The History of Agrabah. No special powers or anything, just a history book. The part of it most relevant to the reason Amira summoned me is the one of Princess Jasmine and Prince Aladdin, and the wicked Vizier, Jafar."

"Aladdin! But I've read the Aladdin story! It happened in China, not Arabia! And the genie wasn't evil!" said Joseph.

"And I thought that Jafar was Vizier of Baghdad," said Amira.

"Different Aladdin, I suppose. Different Jafar as well. _Very_ different Jafar," said Ardeth. "Now. What did this...Prince Aladdin...do?"

"Well, sort of the same thing as _that _Aladdin story. Maybe the person writing it knew the history. He started off as a street urchin. He found a good genie's lamp. Then, the Grand Vizier, Jafar, usurped Sultan Hamid's throne."

"Could have seen that coming," said Joseph.

"Let Khalid finish," said Amira, one hand on the hilt of her dagger.

"As I was saying, Vizier Jafar usurped the throne by stealing the lamp of the good genie. But he was an avaricious man, overstepping the boundaries of God and fate."

Ardeth looked at Khalid quizzically. That was not the sort of thing Khalid usually said. "Oh…I forgot, that last bit was a quote. I thought it sounded good. Very portentious. I saw it and I thought to myself, There's a quote Ardeth Bey will approve of if I ever saw one. Anyway. Moving on. Jafar's final wish from the good genie was to become a genie himself, thanks to a clever ruse by young Aladdin. He was sealed in a lamp, and the Guardians of Agrabah have made sure nobody disturbed the lamp. Well, they've tried. But despite their best efforts, someone's found the lamp."

"Yes! ME! Will it end the world or anything?"

"No, _hamdullah_. It may perhaps end you. And God help us if anyone wishes him free."

"Well, there is hope. The genie can't kill anyone," said Khalid.

"Jafar almost got Amira to kill me!" said Joseph. He also wondered what definition of "can't kill anyone" allowed throwing them into the sea. Maybe Jafar had intended to pull Andrew out when he was only _nearly_ dead.

"This is still sounding like a small problem, Joseph. I could send Amira's little sister after it."

"You don't know what he's like! He's manipulative! Tricksy! He could fool good Englishmen on my crew! What chance do simple desert dwellers stand?"

Amira took out her dagger and slapped Joseph with the flat. "You are a useless Englishman who has no clues! Do you know what we can do? What we have already done? I do not even have a little sister, that is how small my Ardeth thinks the problem is!" To Ardeth, she said, "It offends me to stand in this man's presence any longer. I shall be in the tent making tea." He handed her his falcon and she went inside.

"Look, I know you guys think this is small potatoes, but the 'little problem' tossed one of my men in the Mediterranean, turned another one into a mongoose, and made me unwelcome in Cairo."

"_Unwelcome in Cairo_, and you're crying? I've seen people with their very eyes plucked from their sockets!"

"Look, I didn't even want you people. Not specifically. I made a wish that landed me here."

"Did you wish for the Medjai? For me? For Khalid?"

"Er, no. I said to Jafar 'Take me to someone who can get rid of you.'"

"And you didn't say 'and is willing to'? Or even 'incurring no damage to myself'? Or perhaps 'tomorrow, so that I don't wake people up'?" said Khalid. "You said yourself the genie is tricksy. We must outmaneuver him. Do you have any wishes left?"

"Yes, one. I used the first one to 'make me famous in Cairo,' except what he did was give me a reputation as an immoral deviant."

"We have to go to Cairo. I left most of my gear there and there are things we need to take to the site of Agrabah. I'm sure between the three of us we can find it again."

"You can't take me to Cairo."

"Perhaps I can dress as you. I can defend myself," said Ardeth.

"That's the stupidest bloody idea I've ever heard! You wouldn't fit in my clothes, you're three shades darker and you've got bloody hieroglyphics all over your face!"

"Point taken. Very well then, Khalid shall dress as you. He's somewhat closer to your size, at least, and he can defend himself. You seem...weak."

"Now listen here, 'Master Ardeth'! You may have killed undead mummies and so forth, but I'm a fair shot too!"

"At moving targets?" Ardeth asked skeptically.

"No, Master Ardeth," said Khalid. "I've seen him. He's almost as terrible a shot as he is an archaeologist."

"Khalid, what are you doing, you can't insult me to these people!"

"Master Ardeth requests the truth, Mr. Wellington."

"A month ago you were just a museum curator and now you're taking orders from him?"

"Mr. Wellington, correct me if I'm wrong, but you got into a little…skirmish…on the way to Agrabah?"

"How did you know?"

"Because I was there. I believe I shot your tent. Feisal was quite sarcastic about it."

Joseph looked confused, but only momentarily. He did remember Feisal pointing Khalid out at the skirmish. Then, he hadn't been quite so worried about a small Egyptologist as he was about Ardeth, but now he was wondering if he had underestimated the small Egyptologist.

A few minutes later, Joseph exclaimed, "I've just got an idea!"

"Is it lonely?" asked Khalid.

"First off, I'm tired of you Easterners mocking me. And second, my idea is, why don't I just, you know, dig a hole and bury the lamp in it?"

"To quote yourself, Mr. Wellington, that is a bloody stupid idea," said Khalid.

"Well you said the world wouldn't end or anything like that. So why don't I just bury the lamp and then we'll know where it is and we can protect it. Like you people are supposed to."

"Did you spend most of your life watching Hamunaptra?" asked Ardeth.

"Er, no. You'd know me if I had."

_Rhetorical question, Mr. Wellington_, thought Khalid, but refrained from saying it.

"If you had, you would understand why I am less than eager to spend the _rest_ of my life guarding a useless lamp when we can destroy it."

"I tried to destroy it! I tried swords, guns, my campfire...nothing worked."

"Khalid! Fetch dynamite!"

Once Khalid had gotten dynamite, Joseph lay the lamp on the ground and ran far away. Ardeth stepped back a safe distance, lit the stick of dynamite, and threw it at the lamp.

The lamp lived.

"_Bismillah_, this is a strange lamp indeed!" exclaimed Khalid.

"Perhaps more dynamite?"

A few hours later, they were out of dynamite and the lamp had still lived, so Ardeth and Khalid grabbed

Joseph, who was sitting on a rock with a glass of tea and a disgusted expression, and went inside the fortress for dinner.


	9. Visions of Agrabah

**Chapter 7**

"You fellows tried to explode that thing for far too long!" whined Joseph. "And your tea is completely horrid!"

"We were testing whether the lamp was invulnerable to dynamite or whether we were simply using an insufficient quantity," said Khalid. "That, and Master Ardeth likes explosions."

"It's true," said Ardeth, smiling. "And if you do not like our tea, Mr. Wellington, I shall have your share."

"No, I will," said Amira. She put her hands on her hips. "You exploded things without telling me?"

"We, er, failed to explode things," said Khalid. "The dynamite exploded, but the lamp didn't."

"He's supposed to tell me when things explode," said Amira, pouting.

"I've never met a woman who liked explosions," said Joseph.

"Amira isn't like most people you're used to, Mr. Wellington, let alone most women."

After some similarly awkward attempts at conversation, which seemed to revolve around Ardeth, Amira and Khalid's high level of contempt for their British guest, Amira put food in front of everyone.

Khalid suddenly slumped over.

"No man falls asleep into my tabbouleh!" snarled Amira, yanking his head upwards. His eyes were still closed.

"What's wrong with Dr. el-Hibri?" asked Joseph.

"Good question. What IS wrong with Khalid, Ardeth?" asked Amira.

"I have seen this only once before. With any luck, when he awakens he'll have new information for us."

Khalid could see a throne room in the palace of a medieval Arabic city. A young man was talking to a blue creature that had to be a genie and a beautiful young woman in turquoise.

Agrabah.

"Even if we find the lamp, Jasmine, how are we going to destroy it? Nobody's ever managed to damage my genie's lamp," said the young man, who Khalid assumed was Aladdin.

"Throw it in lava."

"Where are we going to find lava around here? Genie, can you make some?"

"I'm only semi-phenomenal, nearly-cosmic."

"Well, Jafar isn't free so he's more powerful. Maybe we could wish for hot lava and throw the lamp in," said the sultan.

"Knowing Jafar, he'd throw you into a volcano quickly enough that you couldn't drop the lamp."

"But if you sank holding the lamp, the lamp would sink too."

"Yes, but we're not going to die for a stupid plan," said Jasmine.

"Can...can genies get wishes from other genies? It's perfect! Genie is immortal, so even if he got thrown into hot lava, he wouldn't die!"

"But I can't get wishes from other genies."

"So if we ever find the lamp, we just don't rub it and we ask Genie to transport us to the nearest volcano."

"Maybe we could meet some hobbits!" said Genie.

"What are hobbits?"

"Creatures with furry feet that...oh, rats, I left my future vision on again! Sorry," said Genie. Aladdin and Jasmine shrugged. They were used to it by now.

Khalid woke up.

"What did you see?" asked Ardeth.

"You know I saw something?"

"This used to happen to Evelyn. What did you see?"

"I hope Evelyn's were more exciting. I just saw Aladdin and Jasmine and his genie arguing about how to destroy the lamp and Genie said you have to throw them into hot lava. But why did this happen to me?"

"Maybe he's Aladdin reincarnated?" said Amira.

"No. I didn't see things through Aladdin's eyes, I saw everything through my own. Including Aladdin. I'm probably a descendant of his, though. The prophecy says that there is one."

"That would explain it."

"Hot lava? We can find a volcano somewhere, I'm sure," said Amira. "But where is our English friend?"

While Ardeth and Amira had been keeping their eyes on the sleeping Khalid, Joseph had sneaked out of the tent. Amira finally realized it. She noticed, somewhat offended, that he hadn't touched his food, then grabbed a falafel off his plate and, breaking it in half, ate half herself and fed the other to Ardeth.

"I can't believe you let the Inglizi get away!" said Amira once she was done eating.

"I was passed out!"

"I was tending to Khalid!"

"Well, it wasn't MY turn to watch him."

"Now he's probably done just what you told him not to, Master Ardeth," said Khalid. "Gone to bury the lamp."

"I have an idea," said Amira. "You can wish genies free, correct?"

"Yes, but it would be disastrous to do so to an evil one."

"That wasn't my idea and you know it, Ardeth. My idea is, that proves that wishes can affect the genie! So why don't we wish him back to his human state and deal with him as a mortal?"

"Jafar was a formidable sorcerer."

"A sorcerer? A _sorcerer_? Khalid, you do realize anything is an improvement?"

"How 'formidable'?"

"Nothing much, only the most powerful sorcerer in the world. I mean, destroying the lamp might be easier."

"I like Amira's idea. Besides, we could word it so that he didn't even have those powers. We could wish him to be exactly as he was in the year 852. A year before he got the good genie's lamp."

"But first we need to track our English friend down and convince him."

Joseph was running away from the camp.

"I'll destroy this lamp myself! I don't need them! I'll show that cocky Dr. el-Hibri and that Ardeth Bey and that scary Arab woman!"

He rubbed the lamp.

"Trying again?" asked Jafar. "This is your third wish. If you aren't wishing me free, you had better word this very, very carefully."

"I wish for you to destroy your own lamp."

"And you honestly think that will work?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"You see, sir, genies _cannot kill anyone_. It includes _ourselves_. Perhaps you do need them after all?" Jafar rather approved of Ardeth, and even of Khalid, in spite of the fact that Khalid's family had sprung from the loins of that wretched street rat. Oh, certainly they were adversaries, but anyone who mocked this thief couldn't be all

wrong.

"No, because I'm going to throw you down a well."

"Very well, no pun intended. I can simply wait for the next person...if you can even find a well."

"I'll sell the lamp then!"

"That solves your problem how?"

"By making it someone else's problem."

"You're also in the middle of the desert."

"I wish I were in the basement of the Cairo Museum with this lamp."

"Right away, master," sneered Jafar.

A minute later, he was in the basement of the Cairo Museum, inside a sarcophagus. After pushing it open, tumbling out awkwardly, and cursing at Jafar loudly, he put the lamp on a shelf in the basement. _Nobody will notice one dusty old artifact in a roomful of dusty old artifacts_, he thought. After smudging his face with dirt so that he stood somewhat less of a chance of being recognized and humiliated for the rumor in Cairo, he sneaked out of the museum and found a hotel to hide out in.

"He can't have gone very far," said Khalid, back at the Medjai fortress. "I mean, he doesn't know where to go, and he doesn't seem like someone who'd do very well surviving in the desert. And it takes one to know one."

"It seems like you have forgotten something, Khalid. The reason he is here to begin with? With that lamp, he could be anywhere by now," said Ardeth. "I do not understand why he would run away from us."

Khalid didn't give that statement any of the number of answers he could have.

"We should look for him on foot, but I highly doubt we will find him," said Amira. "He is just stupid enough to wish himself somewhere else with that lamp."

"Maybe he wished it to the museum!" said Khalid.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, think about it. In a museum, who's going to know there's anything special about it? At best, it goes completely unnoticed; at worst, someone else finds it. Either way, it's still our problem, but it's not Joseph's anymore, and that's probably just what he was thinking."

"Why would he forget that you know the museum so well?" Ardeth asked Khalid. "It should be nothing for you to run in and find it."

"It will be. But by the time we get to the museum and find the lamp, _he_ will be out of our reach. Which is really all that matters to him. No sense of responsibility at all." Khalid was practically yelling the last of his words, holding onto his tea glass as if he wished to strangle it, perhaps as a replacement for Mr. Wellington.

Ardeth managed to pry the glass out of his hand. "Careful, Khalid. I cannot have you breaking Amira's tea glasses."

"Sorry, Amira. I am just tired of this fellow. Let's go back to the museum and find that lamp."


	10. The Lamp's New Master

Unfortunately, just as Khalid was leading his friends into the building to search for the lamp, someone was exploring the basement. Raghib, who had seen Khalid's acquisition of the History of Agrabah, was not the average museum employee. He was ambitious and rather unscrupulous, and had been sneaking peeks at the History of Agrabah in Khalid's office (which the absent-minded Khalid often forgot to lock). If it pertained to "Agrabah," and Raghib didn't know it, odds were good it was known only by Khalid or by nobody. Of course, Raghib didn't believe in Agrabah.

Raghib had also begun suffering delusions, but he would never tell anyone that. He was a rational man and even the worst dream was just a dream. Anyone could have them after reading such compelling yet utterly nonsensical "history."

At the end of a shelf of Abbasid peculiarities Raghib kept downstairs so the grubby Englishmen wouldn't touch them, was an old black lamp.

"I don't remember you," Raghib said to the lamp. "What are you doing here?"

He thought he heard the lamp talking back.

"Oh no. Raghib, get ahold of yourself." Khalid wouldn't fire him. No, Khalid would do worse. Khalid would start spouting off all kinds of nonsense about destiny, like that Ardeth Bey fellow. Raghib suspected they had grown rather too close, and this despite Dr. Robinson's pronouncements against Ardeth. If Raghib wanted to, he could have had Khalid thrown out by telling Dr. Robinson that Khalid had said hello to Ardeth in passing, never mind that he had secretly maintained a friendship with him for nine years. But Raghib could never get rid of Khalid, because then there would be nobody to argue with. Well, there was Dr. Robinson, but Raghib saw a very large gap between "an argument" and being talked down to for having the impertinence to have been born Arab.

"The lamp isn't talking. It's just the echo in here. But I suppose I ought to catalogue you, lamp. What to say? Brass lamp, 9th century AD, Baghdadi...well, I only assume you're Baghdadi, there's no other reason for you to be on my shelf, is there?

No. You're not Agrabi. Agrabah never existed and I'm sure the book is an elaborate hoax, fiction disguised as history. A poor boy falls in love with the princess? The vizier is evil? Can we say _cliché_? For all his book learning the Director believes it. But not me, no sir.

Yes, I suppose you're right. You do need cleaning.

I really am listening to a lamp, aren't I? Well, no sense listening to a dirty lamp when you can listen to a clean one." Raghib took the lamp off the shelf and polished it with his shirt sleeve.

Standing, facing Raghib, was a tall man in black robes, wearing a turban.

"Where did you come from?" asked Raghib as if evil viziers (for that's what this fellow clearly was) appeared in the Cairo Museum basement all the time.

"The lamp. I am Jafar."

"Al-Barmaki? He...was not to the best of my knowledge turned into a genie." Nor, Raghib thought, was he quite this much of a walking stereotype.

"No, not him. The Medjai woman made the same mistake. I am not from Baghdad. I am in fact from Agrabah. The book you have dismissed for months is, in fact, true." Now that he thought about it, Raghib recognized Jafar; there was an illustration of him in the History. Not that an illustration really showed quite how sharp his teeth were, or quite how excessive his eyeliner was.

"Medjai woman? You mean Amira?" It was entirely possible that there were other women affiliated with the Medjai, but only Amira would make an impression on someone as _the_ Medjai woman. "I've seen her around." He shuddered. "Actually I think that's her voice I hear upstairs. You, er, wouldn't mind going back in the lamp so I can put it in my rucksack? Ardeth and Amira are never here without the Director, and I don't want the Director to think something is amiss."

"Certainly. I wouldn't want to disappoint my own descendant, would I?" He winked at Raghib and enlamped himself, and Raghib put the lamp in his rucksack.

Descendant. Right. If it wasn't crazy Directors and crazy Medjai it was crazy _genies_. This just kept getting better. Raghib went upstairs, deciding to not say anything about Jafar.

That is, until he saw Ardeth, Khalid, and Amira reading the History of Agrabah.

"Khalid? I'm a little unclear on a point of the History. I know Aladdin had children and their dynasty was quite successful. But does the History say anything about Jafar's children? You know, sort of an academical query, no particular reason for it."

"Jafar was not married and hardly what one would call even in the same country as favor. Any children of his would have been swept under the magic carpet, so to speak, and certainly not mentioned in an official history. Completely impossible topic to research of course."

"Thank you."

"Although now that I think about it, your beard has been looking a little twisted lately," Khalid said jokingly.

Raghib walked out of the museum, less than reassured. Crazy directors, crazy Medjai, crazy genies. Someone had to be sane, and it was going to have to be Raghib.

_Author's Note: I'm not going to give detailed information about Jafar al-Barmaki here, because with the way I am the attempt would likely lead to an author's note as long as the chapter itself. Wikipedia has a decent if rather stubby article on him (incidentally, if TV Tropes is more your style, they do as well; search Grand Vizier Jafar or read the Historical Villain Upgrade article). Rest assured that all you need to know here is that he was a vizier in the Abbassid caliphate who's probably rolling in his grave every time someone names a new fictional evil vizier after him. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 9**

When Raghib got home, he decided to rub the lamp. Jafar came out in his human form again.

"Listen. You tell me what that nonsense about my being descended from you is all about, because I'm certainly not a jinn. Watch."

He tried to stick his finger in the lamp.

Due to his finger being quite skinny, it went in, but due to his being somewhat more substantial than a jinn, it got stuck.

"Well, er, you get the point. I can't even fit one finger in this lamp, let alone all of me." With his other hand, he grabbed some oil off a shelf, applied it to the lamp and slid his finger out.

"You fool, do you think I was a jinn all my life? I would have been human when your line was founded."

"Did you know? I mean, back then, before you had all this supernatural knowledge?"

"I slept with half the women of Agrabah, and that's a _low_ estimate. For all I'd have known then, my children went on the books as legitimate children of such-and-such family, although I'm sure their different features were remarked upon."

"I don't mean to question you but...either I question you or I question the good taste of Agrabi women."

"If you were as powerful as I came to be, they'd flock to you too. They were like women—like people—everywhere."

"From what I heard your reign was very short."

"I don't mean my sultanate. It was, unfortunately, too brief for me to do much of anything. I mean my vizierate. Everyone in the city knew that if you needed something...taken care of...you went to the Vizier."

"They bribed you? And you took it?"

"Not so much that, as that Sultan Hamid would have sent them to me even if they had gone to him first, so eventually they stopped going to him. But for truly big favors, yes, they bribed me, with whatever they could. Viziers have to eat too."

_By the looks of them, they don't eat much_, thought Raghib, but he sort of liked this pragmatic, self-interested approach. It wasn't as if he hadn't let people into the museum after hours, or into restricted areas, in exchange for some money. Perhaps he could have a decent business partnership with the old vizier.

Meanwhile, after their strange encounter with Raghib, Khalid, Ardeth and Amira were searching the basement for the lamp.

"I know this museum better than anyone," said Khalid, "but this basement is still going to be tough to search. Er, Amira, I would really appreciate it if you didn't pick that sword up, it's from the 13th century."

"You cannot just leave a sword lying around and expect nobody to touch it, Dr. el-Hibri!"

"Of course I can, that's why the blasted thing is _off exhibit_. You're supposed to be looking for a lamp, not playing with priceless artifacts. …Ardeth? Are you...yes, you are wearing the Ottoman helmet." Khalid shook his head. With friends like these, he didn't need careless museum guests.

"I think you might have labeled it wrong. I think, if anyone, I should be wearing it." He took it off and pointed to a stamped symbol on the inside.

"The seal of the Medjai. This was made for my people. I do not even know how it ended up here."

"The only information we have for it is that it was donated fairly recently by a Frenchman who was involved in a battle. Not long ago, actually. Before I came to the museum, but not long ago at all."

"You would not keep a Medjai helmet away from a Medjai on the word of the man who killed its original owner, would you?"

"Fine. You want a beat-up old helmet because it's got an eye symbol in it, who am I to argue with the great Ardeth Bey. Take it. It's one of the only things in here Dr. Robinson won't miss, me being the other. Here, I'll even look in this journal to find out who the frog nicked it off, if it means that much to you?"

"Frog?" asked Ardeth.

"Oh I'm sorry, force of habit. I was educated in England, as you know. What I meant was, the_ estimable gentleman from France._" He was sarcastic enough to not make that sound much better than "frog."

"I was only asking what you meant by it. Regardless. You read the frog's journal and I'll keep looking for the lamp."

After Ardeth had prowled the corridors looking for the lamp a few times, Khalid called him back. "All I can find pertaining to the helmet is this passage. Thankfully another person who worked here already had this translated." Khalid pointed to an English passage in the book.

_We went looking for a place called Hamunaptra, said to be the hiding place for the wealth of Egypt. The Arabs warned us that the place was protected by the curse of a mummy, but we did not listen. However, we never found the wealth of Hamunaptra, because we were ambushed by some men in black with bizarre hieroglyphics on their faces. They called themselves Magi, though I do not think they can do magic. _

Ardeth laughed. "We _wish_ we could," he said.

"Yes, that does seem like a sloppy translation, doesn't it?" They kept reading.

_The leader of the Magi, a formidable man called Rashideddin Bey, warned us to stay far away from Hamunaptra, on account of he would kill us if we did not leave. We decided to take his word for it, and left the next morning, with a few spoils from the battle, including, miraculously, the helmet of Rashideddin himself, which he had left behind while fighting one of my men. Though I suppose turnabout is fair play, as I was later informed that a small boy traveling with the Magi had stolen my gold statuette of Anubis._

"Not just _any_ Medjai helmet. Khalid, I will find you a proper Ottoman helmet _myself_ if you let me keep this. You were right. The events in this journal happened recently."

"Recently? How recently?"

"Oh, thirty years ago or so."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I remember my father losing his helmet. He shrugged it off and fought without one for the rest of his life. Oh, and I still have the gold statuette of Anubis. I was probably no more than seven years old."

"And you were brought along on a raid? I have been asked to believe some rather unbelievable things, usually by you, but I will stop just short of believing that the Medjai endanger their continued survival by bringing the leader's underage son along."

"I was not asking you to believe that anyone brought me, just that I was there. But back to this helmet, Doctor el-Hibri. May I keep it?"

"You can keep it," said Khalid. "It's not going to get me in trouble to let you, and it obviously means more to you than to anyone here."

"Thank you."

Amira came back up to them, empty-handed. "The lamp is not here. I think we ought to leave, because someone stole the lamp and we'll need to catch up to them."

They walked back up to the ground floor. Before they left, they saw a small boy running up to them.

"Oh, no, not Alex!" exclaimed Khalid. "I can only imagine what he's gotten into now!"

"I haven't gotten into anything!" said Alex. "I've only been in the library reading! Oh, hi, Ardeth. Nice helmet, where'd you get it?"

"He took it from my museum's basement."

"Did you let him?" asked Alex.

"He _did_ let me," said Ardeth, amused.

"Where is your mother, Alexander?" asked Khalid sternly.

"Oh, Mum fell asleep in the library."

"And you didn't think of waking her up?" asked Amira.

"I tried but she didn't wake up. So what are you guys doing here?"

"We found a genie's lamp but someone stole it from us and hid it here. Then someone else stole it from here. Now we have to get it back because the genie is evil," said Khalid.

"Can I hear Ardeth's explanation? Yours sounds awful, no offense, Dr. el-Hibri."

"We found a genie's lamp but someone stole it from us and hid it here. Then someone else stole it from here. Now we have to get it back because the genie is evil," said Ardeth.

"If my dad were here, he would call you a smart-arse for that."

"Where _is_ Mr. O'Connell, anyway?" asked Khalid. "I thought all three of you were coming to Cairo."

"Dad's in the hotel. He came down with something in Alexandria."

"Let's go wake up your mother, all right?" asked Khalid.

They headed to the library, where a woman with long brown hair was sleeping, her face in a book. Khalid took the bell off the checkout desk and rang it gently, but Evy didn't wake up.

Alex ran over. "Hey Mum! Hey Mum! Hey Mum! Wake up already!"

She turned her head, but didn't wake up.

"Any bright ideas?" asked Khalid.

"Evelyn! The library is on fire!" Ardeth yelled.

The woman sat up straight, put on a pair of reading glasses, and said, "The library is on fire? I have to save the books!" She looked around.

"This library is _not_ on fire, and I have some strong words for whatever jokester told me it was."

"That would be me, Evelyn. I am sorry, but nothing else seemed to be working."

"Ardeth? But if you're in the Cairo Museum…oh, no, not another mummy."

"A jinn this time. We thought its lamp was safely hidden here, but someone must have stolen it while we were traveling from the Medjai fortress. Who was in the museum today?"

"Not many people. Dr. Robinson came back, but he went to check his airplane and then he left. A fellow named Feisal said he was looking for a Joseph Wellington."

"Feisal wouldn't have stolen the lamp. If he took it, he'd have brought it to Ardeth or me," said Khalid. "Anyone else?"

"That scrawny Raghib fellow. He was complaining about Khalid and treasure hunters. He went downstairs, but I don't remember seeing him come back up before I fell asleep."

"Dr. Robinson left right after he checked his airplane?" asked Khalid. "He did _not_ come back ranting about a dirty, improperly-parked airplane?"

"Why do you ask?"

"We asked the pilot to fly us to Damascus."

"Why were you in Damascus?"

"We went to Damascus on the trail of Joseph Wellington, who was excavating the destroyed city of Agrabah. You see, we wanted to stop him from finding the lamp. Sadly, we failed."

"You must have really hated that. I mean, after not stopping people from bringing back Imhotep," said Alex.

"My son, the diplomat," sighed Evy. "So why is this lamp such a problem?"

"The jinn is forced by the lamp to grant three wishes. However, the jinn is a wicked creature and turns the wishes to the disadvantage of the master of the lamp. Wellington learned this at a price, and he tried to hide the lamp in the museum."

"You know, I don't think he's very bright," said Evy. "Why would he hide something here? The museum workers would know if anything was out of place."

"Yes, but by the time anyone found it, the lamp was out of _his_ life. He's a selfish treasure hunter. We need to start looking for the lamp outside the museum now," said Khalid, "because if I can't find it, it's not here."


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning

Everyone had gathered in Khalid's office in the museum. Khalid made coffee for everyone but Alex. Evy began sipping hers while asking questions about the genie and the treasure hunter, but Amira spit hers out.

"Khalid! This is coffee-colored water!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Amira, but I'm not very good at making coffee."

"Why don't you answer the questions and let Ardeth make the coffee?"

"All right, then. Besides, I ought to see where Raghib is supposed to be today." He grabbed a notebook before sitting down next to Evy with his cup of coffee. He quickly flipped through the notebook, before shaking his head.

"Well, that's no help. Raghib has the day off. We won't get any answers that way."

"Perhaps I can pay him a visit," said Ardeth.

"Well, it can't hurt. I'll give you his address. Well, once you're done with the coffee."

Once the new batch of coffee was made, Ardeth handed a cup to Amira. "That's better."

"Some for you too, Khalid."

"I suppose I'll have to drink this, won't I?" asked Khalid.

"If you don't want it, I'll have some," said Alex. "I bet it's special Medjai coffee."

Khalid shook his head. _Special Medjai coffee. What will he think of next._ "Well, Evelyn, this is for you."

"For me? Whyever do you say that?"

"I don't want to hand your son back to you after coffee." He took a sip. "This _is_ better than mine." It was also significantly stronger. In some circumstances Khalid would've said it could wake the dead, but that was perhaps not the best analogy to use in front of Ardeth.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Perhaps it's Raghib," said Khalid. "I do hope it is." He opened the door. "Oh. Good morning, Dr. Robinson." At the sound of the museum official's name, Ardeth hid behind Khalid's desk. "How was Paris?"

"It was all right, I suppose. You see, I'm here because of my airplane." Dr. Robinson, a short round man in a suit that had seen better days, walked into the office.

"Your airplane? What about your airplane?"

"When I returned, I immediately went to see about my airplane. I don't trust anyone at this museum, least of all you."

"Was your airplane all right?"

"Parked in the same position, full of fuel, nothing to indicate any misuse. _Except_, and I found this very curious, a long, dark brown hair." He shoved a hair in Khalid's face. Khalid wondered how he had managed to find one hair in the plane.

"Well, as you can see, Dr. Robinson, my hair is short, and darker than that. So I don't know why you would come to me."

"Because, Doctor el-Hibri, when I am not here, you are supposed to be in charge of this museum. You ought to have noticed my airplane being stolen."

"I can definitely say that your airplane was not stolen at a time when I was in the museum." Khalid wasn't sure about that statement. It had the curious property of being completely dishonest while remaining factually true. It was the sort of thing a particularly sleazy ambassador would say.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. O'Connell. Did you perhaps see anyone take my airplane?"

"I only got here a few days ago, and I didn't see anyone take your airplane either."

"Suspicious. Very suspicious. Wait, who are you?" Dr. Robinson asked Amira.

"My name is Amira bint Sakhr. My husband and I are friends of Khalid's. Perhaps you've heard of Ardeth Bey?"

"Amira, either you are oblivious, or you're trying to lose me my job," said Khalid.

"Well, I _could_ train you as a proper Medjai if you left the museum," said Amira. "But why would you lose your job for knowing Ardeth?"

"Dr. Robinson and Ardeth don't get along well," said Khalid. In fact, Dr. Robinson looked angrier than Khalid had ever seen him, and Khalid had seen Dr. Robinson angry quite often.

"I don't get along well with people who try to throw me out my office window!" snapped Dr. Robinson.

"And I don't get along well with people who refuse to help Cairo in the wake of a disaster because they don't believe in undead mummies," said Ardeth, standing up from behind Khalid's desk.

"What is he doing in my museum, el-Hibri?"

"Ask him yourself," said Khalid.

"What are you doing in my museum?" Dr. Robinson asked Ardeth. "I thought I told you to stay out."

"You did."

"So why are you here again? You don't respect my authority, do you?"

"No. You see, I am a Medjai commander. Not only that, Egypt may be in danger as we speak. I take orders from no one, least of all little Englishmen who think they know all there is to know about Egypt because other little Englishmen put them in charge of a museum."

"Wait, what's this about Egypt being in danger?"

"It does not concern you, and you would not believe me even if I were willing to tell you."

"It concerns someone at this museum, or you wouldn't be here. If I can't get the truth from you, I'll get it from a museum employee. Tell me what's going on, el-Hibri."

"You wouldn't _believe_ me."

"How can I know if I believe it if I don't know what it is?"

"A jinn. Dr. Robinson. A wicked one. We are trying to locate its lamp," said Khalid.

"There's no such thing as jinn, el-Hibri!"

Khalid rolled his eyes. "Ardeth? A little help here?" he asked.

"I cannot make him believe you, Khalid."

"Now you see here, Dr. Robinson," said Evy. "I saw a mummy come back from the dead, so I am not going to arbitrarily disbelieve in this jinn. Especially not with who told me about it. I would trust Ardeth with my life, and Dr. el-Hibri has been absolutely wonderful to work with. You, on the other hand, have done nothing but make my stay extremely unpleasant, and I know something about unpleasant trips to Egypt."

"Mrs. O'Connell, I expected more from you. How can you believe this nonsense?"

"Four people in this room say they believe it. Five, if you count Alex. You are outnumbered. Therefore, the matter is closed and you are out of order," said Khalid.

Dr. Robinson spluttered incoherently.

"Never thought board meetings would help me," Khalid said.

"Reality is not subject to a vote, el-Hibri!" snapped Robinson. "Where's your proof that anything happened?"

"I am not here to admire artifacts, Dr. Robinson," said Ardeth. "Some would consider my involvement proof that something has happened."

"You know what? You people win. I will leave you to deal with this alleged problem."

"You aren't throwing Ardeth out?" asked Khalid.

"Of course not! Not when I'm outnumbered. Of course, I do think this whole thing with the airplane is very fishy. Very fishy indeed."

"Allow me to explain. I needed to get to Damascus very quickly. The first airplane I could find was yours. I asked your pilot to take me to Damascus. That is why my hair was in your airplane."

"Khalid, did you know about this?"

"Not at all, sir," said Khalid. "I must have been out to lunch."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because my window overlooks your airplane, and I think I'd have seen it fly away."

"So he didn't tell you he was using it? I thought he would, if he was such a good friend of yours."

"I spend more time here than I do with him. Honestly, sir, we rarely see each other."

"I'm through with all of you," said Dr. Robinson. "I am going to go get something to eat, and when I come back hopefully the museum will be back to normal."

"You don't _know _how abnormal this museum can actually get," said Evy.

"I must agree with Evelyn," said Ardeth.

Dr. Robinson shook his head and left.

"Well, that was completely pointless," said Khalid. "At least he forgot about the airplane."

"I do not think he forgot. I just think he knew he could not do anything about it. Now, I think it's time I visit Raghib."

"Here's a map with his address written on it. What are you going to do?"

"Kick his arse! Aren't you?" asked Alex.

"Language, Alex," said Evy.

"I will not hurt him unless I have to. If he is there, I will attempt to talk him into giving me the lamp. If he is not there but the lamp is, I will take it. If he is not there and took the lamp with him, I will see if I can find out where he went."

"So…you're not going to kick his arse?" asked Khalid, slightly relieved.

"I would not hurt a friend of yours, Khalid. He probably did not know what it was and took it home to study it. I will tell him what it is, and leave a note to tell him if he isn't there."

"Oh, like 'Genie lamp. Took back for safekeeping. Love, Ardeth Bey'? I don't think that will go over so well."

"I will also tell him that he is perhaps in the most danger of all from the lamp."

"That might help. Good luck."

Ardeth left the museum, heading out into the crowded streets of Cairo. Raghib's house was just a few blocks away from the museum. When Ardeth got there, he knocked on the door, but nobody answered.

"Raghib! I only want to talk to you!"

He tried the door handle, but it was locked. Looking around for another way in, he noticed a ladder on the side of the house, covered with vines. The roof was flat, and there was a table and chair on it. It seemed unlikely that anyone would carry the furniture up the ladder, so there was probably a way from the house to the roof. And therefore, vice versa.

Ardeth tore some of the vines off the ladder to avoid slipping on them, then climbed up to the roof. Sure enough, there was a trapdoor. It wasn't locked, though it was secured by a rope.

"Well, I did not say I would not hurt Raghib's _house_," Ardeth said to himself, slicing through the rope with a small dagger. He opened the trapdoor to reveal a set of stairs. Once inside the house, he called to Raghib again but still received no answer.

In Raghib's room there was no sign of him and no lamp, but there was a map. Ardeth looked at it. The Citadel of Salah-ad-Din was circled. Leaving the map where it was (he had done enough to make Raghib suspicious already), he wrote that down and left by the rooftop door.

On his way back to the museum, he found himself in the middle of a crowd yelling excitedly.

"You there!" he asked a random passerby. "What is happening?"

"We must clear the streets and make ready for Sultan Raghib's coronation!"

"Sultan Raghib?"

"Yes! He is to be crowned at the Citadel of Salah-ad-Din!"

That explained the map. It did _not_ explain why ordinary Cairenes were embracing their new "sultan." The genie's powers must be extraordinary.

"Send him my congratulations. I fear I will not be able to attend his coronation in person." He walked away, though he hated to admit that that took effort. Part of him wanted to walk towards the citadel.

"Put me down! Where are you taking me? Someone help!"

It was a familiar, English-accented voice. Ardeth ran in the direction of it. Two men were trying to hold on to Dr. Robinson, who was struggling feebly and yelling for help.

"Dr. Robinson? What happened?"

"I was on my way to lunch and these two grabbed me!"

"Raghib's orders are to take him to the Citadel."

"Raghib never liked me. I don't think I'm being invited in for tea."

"I doubt it."

"I don't expect you to help me."

Ardeth hit one of the thugs in the arm, causing him to let go of Dr. Robinson. As he dragged the doctor away from the thugs, the only person who did not look utterly surprised was Ardeth himself.

"Thank you. Most people wouldn't have helped me if I was such a stubborn ass to them as I was to you."

"Most people are not Medjai, Dr. Robinson. You will be safe in the museum. Khalid and I will deal with this."

"Can you explain something?"

"I will try."

"Why does everyone else think Raghib is the new sultan and you and I know what's going on?"

"I cannot say. My best guess is that the jinn has cast a spell on the city. I felt some effects of it myself, though my Medjai training is helping me overcome it. As for you, I believe you are resisting it because you did not believe in jinn, and still do not want to."


	13. Chapter 13

The two thugs were still standing, gobsmacked, in the street.

"What are we going to tell Mr. Sadiq, Ted?"

"You tell _me_, Ned! You ain't the one what got smacked around!"

"Oh please, he hit you in the arm, not the head."

"So? Still hurts."

"Well, we've got to tell Mr. Sadiq _something_!"

"We tell him the truth."

"You tell him the truth. I'm not good at that."

They went back to the citadel, where Raghib was waiting, along with Jafar, who was in a human form and wearing a suit.

"Mr. Sadiq, sir?"

"That is, in three hours, going to be _Sultan_ Raghib Sadiq. Where is Dr. Robinson?"

"Well, you see, sir, we had just gotten him when suddenly out of nowhere someone rescues him!"

"Nobody should have been _able_ to," said Raghib. "Jafar, when I made that wish, I specifically asked you to make everyone in Cairo think I was Sultan, _except_ for Dr. Robinson and Khalid el-Hibri. Ted, what did this person look like?"

"He had long dark brown hair and strange symbols tattooed on his face."

"_Medjai_," said Jafar. He almost regretted sending Joseph Wellington to them. Assuming they would kill him was apparently the wrong assumption, and Jafar did not want Medjai involved. As vizier of Agrabah he had sent men to Hamunaptra in pursuit of its treasure, and few of them survived. True, these weren't the same Medjai.

They had more collected experience, an array of modern technology, and a commander who had supposedly killed legions of the undead. They were _better_ Medjai. Which, of course, from Jafar's perspective, meant that they were _worse_.

"New orders, men," said Raghib to the motley band of lackeys he had assembled from the brainwashed populace. Apart from Ned and Ted, they were all Egyptian; Raghib didn't even know why Ned and Ted had joined up.

"Shoot Medjai on sight."

"How will we know they're Medjai?" asked Ned.

"How will you know they're Medjai? I don't know, I would _think_ the black clothes, blue turbans, facial markings and disturbing tendency to get involved whenever anything out of the ordinary happens in Egypt would help!"

"But why didn't the magic thingy work?" asked Ted. "I mean, unless he wasn't in Cairo when Jafar cast it?"

"He was in Cairo. I can feel his resistance. It is stronger than that of the ordinary people, but he will succumb to it eventually. I also feel another person resisting," said Jafar.

"Do you know who it is?" asked Raghib.

"Yes. It's that female Medjai."

"_How_ does your spell _not work_ on Ardeth and Amira? Those are the _last_ two people we want involved!"

"I intended it to work on them. They are _resisting_ it. It is like nothing I have _ever_ experienced. I met people strong enough to resist my powers when I was a human sorcerer, but they are capable of suppressing a spell cast by a _genie_."

When Ardeth brought Dr. Robinson back to Khalid's office in the museum, only Khalid and Amira were there. Amira's hands were tied to the arms of a chair.

"Khalid, where are Evelyn and Alex? And why have you bound Amira? We need her to help us fight."

"Evelyn and Alex ran off to pay their respects to Sultan Raghib. Amira almost did, but she shook her head and let me tie her to this chair until you got back, so that she would not leave."

"Amira is too strong-willed to give in to that spell easily."

"And now that you are here I have even more reason to fight it," Amira said.

"What of you, Khalid? How are you holding up?"

"That's just the thing. It's not that I'm holding up, it's that I'm not feeling anything at all. I know completely that Raghib is not the sultan at all, he's just a lamp-thief that will _not_ be working here anymore."

"He must have something special planned for the two of us, that's why we were left out," said Dr. Robinson. "But why would _they_ be left out? You'd think Medjai would be the last people Raghib wants involved."

"We were not deliberately left out, Dr. Robinson. Amira and I are fighting the spell off. By necessity, the training of the Medjai strengthens the mind as well as the body. The mummy Imhotep had power over minds as well, and more mundane enemies have sought to break us. There is a story in a scroll in the fortress library of a Syrian expedition to Hamunaptra. They captured a Medjai and brought him back to their city. The Grand Vizier tortured him nearly to death and got not so much as the tiniest Medjai secret."

"You wouldn't happen to remember the name of the city, would you?"

"I read that scroll years and years ago, and I remember the city's name being unfamiliar to me at the time, but I do not remember what the name was."

"Well, what Syrian city with a wicked vizier, that you wouldn't have recognized the name of because it doesn't exist anymore, do we know of?" asked Khalid.

"It does almost make sense. I shall have to speak very harshly to Jafar." He had one hand on the hilt of his sword; Khalid figured it was what would _really_ be doing the talking.

"I don't think you can hurt him, though."

"If he is in human form, surrounded by humans, he may have to feign being hurt. Fighting him would buy Amira some time to steal that lamp. I knew we brought that knapsack for a reason."

Ardeth untied Amira's hands and she began rummaging through a big knapsack. "I hope the lamp will fit. There are already two pairs of trousers, a gun, an abaya and face veil, ammunition, a falconry glove, ammunition, bandages, a snakebite kit, ammunition, a dagger, a statuette of Anubis, a few pomegranates, and, oh, more ammunition."

"Why _is _the statuette of Anubis in there?" asked Khalid.

"I had been planning to give it to the museum when I brought the History of Agrabah but I forgot it was in there. You can have it."

Khalid took it and put it in his own bag. He would catalogue it when all this was over. "Well, this _more_ than makes up for you taking that helmet. Sometimes, Ardeth, I really love you."

"So are we going to storm the palace?" said Amira.

"I'd like to go by myself first," said Khalid.

"That is a horrible idea!"

"He'll be _expecting_ Medjai. He'll be expecting _you_. He won't expect his friend from the museum. I may not even get caught, but if I do I'll try to talk some sense into him."

"He will not listen to you."

"I'm sorry, but I have to try. I have to try to find out what it's like at the citadel. Go on reconnaissance, as it were. I'm the least likely to be caught and the least likely to be hurt severely if I am. I think it is better if we know the best way to get in, how the citadel is guarded, and maybe even where the lamp is before we go in with more people and weapons. Call some Medjai to the city while I'm gone. Three people won't be enough to storm the citadel."

"Go then. But do not expect me to rescue you."

"You would, though."

"I am not saying not to expect it because I will not do it. I am saying not to expect it because if you are sure you will be rescued you will be more likely to make mistakes. Tell yourself I will not rescue you."

"That makes sense."

Khalid picked up his backpack, put a little notebook in his jacket pocket, and left the museum.

"Why did you let him do that?" asked Amira.

"I have faith in him. I probably have more faith in him than he has in himself. He needs to _know_ I have faith in him. He will be able to achieve something."

"Oi! Ned! Someone's coming!"

"Medjai?"

"Don't think so. Scrawny fellow. Suit."

"Can't do no harm to let him in."

Khalid was frantically taking notes in Arabic. "Mosque entrance: two guards, Brits, seem a bit thick-witted. More guards at main citadel entrance."

"You! What are you writing?"

"Notes for my article. I'm a journalist, and I have an interview with Sultan Raghib."

Ned and Ted looked at each other.

"Well, we probably don't know his schedule," said one of them.

"Probably won't share it with the likes of us. Bet he does have an interview. Let's get this guy to the throne room." They led Khalid away from the mosque and to the main citadel building.

On the way to the throne room he saw Feisal in one of the corridors.

"Feisal?"

"Khalid, what are you doing in the palace? I heard Mr. Sadiq make that wish, he said you weren't going to be under the spell," said Feisal in Arabic. "I was, but somehow I was able to fight it once I arrived at the palace and saw the jinn. I think it's the fact that I've seen him before. I'm not fighting it very well, that's why I'm in this corridor. I ran out here once I realized everything and by the time it would take me to walk back to the throne room I would probably have gathered more resistance."

Khalid tore the note out of the notepad and handed it to Feisal. "Take that to my office at the museum. You should find Ardeth Bey there. Give him that."

Feisal nodded and left.

"What did you do? How did you get someone to leave the throne room?"

"I told him I had orders from Raghib to give orders to him. I don't of course, but you needn't be alarmed. I simply needed someone to send a communication to my employer to tell him I had gotten in for the interview."

Ned looked a bit suspicious, but kept leading Khalid towards the throne room.

When he got there, he saw Raghib, seated on a throne with Jafar standing next to it. At least, Khalid had to _assume_ it was Jafar; he had gone from simply materializing modern clothes to changing his appearance completely. The twisted beard Khalid remembered from the _History of Agrabah_ illustrations was still there, but it adorned a handsomer, less pointy face, with bright brown eyes and long dark hair.

Khalid had wondered when reading the History why a wizard of such power had not altered his appearance. Now he wished he _was_ facing the real Jafar. This new look was entirely too…familiar.

"Khalid el-Hibri?" asked Raghib. "What are you doing here?"

"He told us he was a journalist, sir."

"This is no journalist! It's none other than Khalid el-Hibri, my former supervisor at the museum! I _had_ thought to make you Grand Vizier but the position is taken. Would you like to be Second Vizier?"

"I won't work with that genie."

"Where's Dr. Robinson?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I had that spell not affect him so that he would have to be punished the _hard_ way for everything he's done to me. To _us_. You should be the _first_ person to give him up, Khalid."

"He's back at the museum."

"And where is your Medjai friend?" asked Jafar.

"I don't know." It was the truth, even though he had known exactly where Ardeth was when he left the museum. A predictable person would have stayed in the museum, which meant Khalid wasn't going to stake any money on _Ardeth_ doing it.

"How _fortunate_ for us, Raghib."

"Ned, Ted, throw him in the dungeon. One of the other of us will be along shortly. We cannot have Medjai creeping about putting a stop to our plans."

When Ned and Ted approached, Khalid kicked the nearest one in the groin. Ned (or possibly Ted) bent over in pain, while Ted (though then again, it might have been Ned) tried to grab Khalid by the arm.

"It's too late!" Khalid exclaimed triumphantly. "I've already given Ardeth everything he needs to storm the citadel. You can put me in the dungeons but you've already lost."

The one of the Ned-Teds who wasn't already too hunched over to do anything was so surprised that he let go of Khalid's arm. Khalid took the opportunity to pull the statuette of Anubis out of his bag and hit him over the head with it.

"Mr. Sadiq? A little help here?"

"I _saw _you at the battle in Agrabah! You were hopeless! You shot one of the explorers' tents!" said Jafar, almost as surprised as the Ned-Teds that Khalid was fighting back.

"Never was a good shot, especially not without my glasses," said Khalid, "but that doesn't mean I can't fight at close range. I'm a Medjai. Ardeth wouldn't initiate a lousy fighter."

Ned drew a gun, but Raghib signaled to him and he put it away.

"No firearms indoors. You might damage the Citadel. I _had_ hoped nobody would fight in the Citadel at all, but since Khalid so rudely broke that I suppose I shall have to settle for disallowing gun fighting."

"But earlier you said to shoot Medjai," said Ned.

"I see no Medjai here."

Khalid rolled up his right trouser leg and pulled down his sock. The sacred mark of the Medjai was tattooed on his ankle.

"Does that convince you? Put me in the dungeon if you wish. Even say I am not very _good_ at being a Medjai. But I _am_ one."

"So, when I put you in the dungeon, Ardeth will try to rescue you."

"He will not come to rescue me and sneak away. When he comes to rescue me, he will come to defeat you as well."

"I have an all-powerful genie! What does Ardeth have?"

"Proficiency with at least five weapons. Knowledge of how to get into the Citadel. An uncanny gift for sneaking about. The loyalty until death of his Medjai. Amira. And, in a few hours, I'd wager he'll have that lamp, too."

"Amira?" asked Ted (Khalid thought he was beginning to tell them apart; Ted was wearing an ugly tie, Ned an ugly hat). "What good is a woman going to do him?"

"Khalid has a point," said Jafar.

"Really? You're going to be afraid of a little woman? Some all-powerful genie," said Ned.

"I am not _afraid_ of her," said Jafar, "but mortals would be better off if they were. At the least you should have a healthy respect for her."

"I've never yet seen a woman that could fight, and this backwards country is the last place I'd expect to find one."

"You'll find one very soon," said Khalid. "If you're lucky, she won't be the one to find me, because I'll tell her what you said."

"If I may, sire, we are going to be late for our own coronation," Jafar said to Raghib. "Send the Medjai away."

"I have been trying to send the Medjai away."

Jafar snapped his fingers. A rope materialized and wrapped itself around Khalid.

"There. Now Ned and Ted should have no trouble carrying him to the dungeon."

"I did not wish for that."

"As your Grand Vizier I must act for the good of the regime, must I not?"

Khalid realized that this was worse than he thought. He had originally thought Raghib had Jafar under control. Then he had thought _Jafar_ had _Raghib_ under control. This was neither. If he did not know that Raghib held the lamp, he would not be able to figure out who was the master and who was the servant; they were working as genuine co-rulers.

He wondered how long it would last, but until it collapsed it was going to make fighting them considerably harder. He also wondered why Jafar would be any more reliable for Raghib than for any other person who had the lamp. Then he remembered the prophecy (which he still thought was misguided; no princess had shown up) mentioning Jafar's descendant, and the query from Raghib about whether the usurper had had any children. Khalid doubted that Jafar would show Raghib familial favoritism for long, but that had to be the answer.

Ned and Ted picked Khalid up and carried him down several flights of stairs to a row of cells. One of them unlocked a cell and shoved Khalid in.


	14. Chapter 14

Feisal knocked on Khalid's door at the museum, then opened it when he got no answer.

He saw Ardeth sitting in Khalid's chair with a woman in his lap. She turned around (she was quite beautiful, and looked rather like that statue of Hatshepsut that Feisal had helped Khalid find) and snapped "What do you want?" at him.

"I have a message from Khalid el-Hibri."

"You interrupted us!"

"I can see that, yes. I would venture to suggest that when you have someone out on reconnaissance to prepare to storm a citadel is perhaps not the best time for canoodling. If I were a Medjai, I would be very disappointed in my commander."

"Blame me for that," said Amira. "He _was_ trying to discuss our plan for storming the Citadel, but I…sort of forgot myself. I just love him so much when he's strategizing."

Feisal rolled his eyes and handed the note to Ardeth.

"It says we should use the mosque entrance. Amira, Khalid left us the keys to his car. Take it back to the fortress and summon at least seven Medjai."

"Wait, you can drive?" asked Feisal.

"I would rather ride my horse, but yes, I _can_ drive."

"What are you going to do here in the city?" Feisal asked Ardeth. "Wouldn't it be easier if you gave orders to the Medjai yourself?"

"Amira's orders are as good as mine, and I need to stay in the city for any further messages from Khalid. Besides, I should take a look at the History of Agrabah. It may yet have the secret to Jafar's undoing. By the way, how were you able to fight off that spell?"

"I saw the genie back in Mr. Wellington's camp, and when I saw him again, I was able to realize what was going on. I do still want to go back to the palace."

"Except now you know where I am, and where Amira is going. I _cannot_ have you going back to the palace and betraying us, even against your will. Amira, go now. Lock the door from the outside." Amira left the office, and Ardeth turned to Feisal. "I may need you, so I will not tie you to anything, but you cannot leave now unless you leave with me."

Ardeth began flipping through the History of Agrabah. He wondered what had happened to Khalid. Whatever happened, he could not risk getting captured or shot now. Seven Medjai would be just enough to deal with the guards and rescue Khalid while Amira got the lamp and Ardeth…he realized that no mortal could fight genies and win, but he did not have to win. He only had to hold Jafar off long enough for the lamp to be taken.

Then he wondered what would happen once they _did_ have the lamp. Would everything be back to normal immediately, or would someone have to make a wish to undo Raghib's?

When he came to the prophecy, he laughed a bit.

"What is it?"

"There is a prophecy written here. It says that the lamp will be given to Jafar's descendant, but that the descendant of Aladdin will be able to destroy it with the help of a man who guards the Pyramids and…well, Khalid was stuck on this part, but I think I see what his problem is. You see, he was wondering when a princess was going to show up, when we have had the person the prophecy refers to all along."

"Amira. Why would it foretell just one person's name, though, and call you 'the man who guards the Pyramids' instead?"

"I do not believe it is her name. 'Prince' is only one translation of _amir_ and a newer one. It used to refer to a military commander. Some Medjai still refer to their commander as _amir_."

"So, what you're saying is, either it actually is referring to her by name, or it is referring to a female military leader."

"Yes. Perhaps it is a coincidence that her name is Amira. The syntax is ambiguous."

"How did you figure that out when Khalid never did?"

"Khalid was trying to think like a 9th-century Agrabi, when the seer who made the prophecy was not. A woman commanding a military force would have been unthinkable to them, so he assumed it meant a princess. But to an all-seeing prophet, she would _not_ have been unthinkable."

"So what should we do while Amira is getting the reinforcements?" Feisal asked.

"You and I have a coronation to attend, my friend."

"It's much too dangerous! They'll catch you! You're a Medjai! Raghib gave orders to shoot all Medjai on sight after you rescued Robinson!"

"Amira left that satchel here for a reason." He began unpacking it and took out a face veil and abaya.

"Amira doesn't wear a face veil," said Feisal. "Does she?"

"Not usually, no." Ardeth put his own outer robe in the satchel, then put the abaya on.

"But if Amira doesn't wear one, why do you carry it?"

"A wise Medjai is prepared for anything."

"Just one question. The museum isn't quite empty. Everyone was under the spell and did go to the square, but Raghib sent some men back to the museum to get it ready for a celebration he's having here later. He didn't send back any women, so if they see someone they think is a woman, they'll know something's up. It seems like you solved one problem and created another. You can't get out without being caught, unless you use the secret passage."

"So there is one?"

"Yes, but Khalid never told me how to open it. How do you know about it?"

"It was my idea. Khalid did not, however, tell _me_ how to open it either."

"Most of the men are in the basement. I think I can sneak out of the museum without attracting much notice and if anyone does ask where I'm going I'll make something up. You really can't. Though I think it's an absolutely brilliant idea for not being noticed at the coronation itself."

"Feisal, when I am safely on the ground below, untie this rope and meet me in front of the museum. Take that satchel." He tied a rope to a floor lamp next to the window, and lowered himself out the window on it.

While in the alleyway he had landed in, Ardeth clipped on the head scarf and face veil before meeting Feisal in front of the museum.

"One more question. You can't disguise your voice, can you?"

"If we are questioned, say I am your mother, and that I am very religious and also ill. That will stop all but the most determined from addressing _me_. Of course, Jafar may still see through it."

"Where is Amira supposed to meet you with the reinforcements?"

"By the gate of the city that isn't near the Citadel. I do not want to send Medjai into the city before I meet with them."

"Do you have any kind of musical instruments with you? They've been banned at the Citadel, so I can only assume they weaken Jafar's powers. Raghib loved music, so it wouldn't be _his_ idea."

As they were walking towards the square Raghib was to be crowned in, they spotted a small music school.

"I know the shopkeeper here." The shopkeeper was out; in fact, nobody was on the street at all. Everyone was already on their way to the coronation. Inside the music school, Ardeth took an oud off the wall and put a note on the counter. "_I will return the oud. If it is broken, I will replace it. If I am dead, the Medjai will replace it. –Ardeth Bey."_

"I thought you people were a _secret_ society," said Feisal.

"You can't help save Egypt from Imhotep twice without revealing yourself. Carry this. You wouldn't burden your old mother with it."

"But musical instruments aren't allowed at the Citadel!"

"A very good thing, then, that we are not going to the Citadel, is it not?"

In the dungeon of the Citadel, Khalid sat in his cell and thought. Mainly, he thought about trying to escape. He knew it was hopeless, though. Even if some physical fault could be found in the cell, there was probably magic holding him in as well. He tried to think on the bright side. He wouldn't be sentenced to death, at least not until after the coronation, and with any luck Ardeth would storm the coronation anyway. He probably wouldn't even be tortured, since Jafar already _knew_ who Khalid was working for. He just had to sit here until Ardeth came to the Citadel.

It wasn't much of a bright side, but it was somewhat less dark.

He began eating the dry crust of bread a guard had tossed into his cell and then heard footsteps along the corridor. To his surprise, Raghib stood there, holding a bowl of soup.

"Raghib? Why are you helping me?"

"I can't have my best friend treated like this," he said.

"Oh, sure, you can throw him into jail but heaven forbid he not have good food. Let me out, you wanker."

"I can't do _that_, Khalid. You see, Jafar has been a great help to me. I always thought it was a pity that this citadel stood ruined and forgotten. When I found the lamp, I wished to be able to restore it to its former glory. And Jafar gave me so much more than I expected. Making me ruler here was his idea, you know. I would never have thought of it. I'm ever so grateful. I couldn't possibly let you out. Jafar would be upset if I did that. But he understands that I don't want to see you abused here."

"Listen to me, Raghib. Jafar only wants power for himself. If he could kill you, I wouldn't expect you to last a week after your coronation! As it is, I'm sure he can find some way of completely eclipsing you. He found a convenient figurehead, that's all. Don't think you'll have any real power. And I hope you're _very happy indeed_ with living in the Citadel, because he won't want you leaving it. That would let you see what he's doing to the city."

"Jafar would never imprison me here. He has my best interests at heart."

Khalid realized he was beyond the point where logic and reason would work. He thought back to a book about a vampire he'd read when he was in England. What was the name of that crazy man who helped the vampire, the one who ate rats? Ah yes, Renfield. Well, Raghib hadn't eaten any rats, but Khalid could see the similarity. He didn't have any arguments that would work. Arguments generally only work on people who are in their right mind. There was nothing for Khalid to do but take the soup and hope Raghib would come to his senses.

He doubted that would happen until Jafar was defeated for good.


	15. Chapter 15

At the coronation, Raghib stood on a balcony of a palace alongside a tall man with short black hair wearing a black suit with a red tie, pocket square and fez. _Obviously Jafar_, thought Ardeth.

"People of Cairo!" shouted Raghib. "For too long we have been trodden on by foreign feet! My reign shall usher in a new golden age for Egypt!"

"Sounds good," Feisal muttered.

"_Jafar_ is not Egyptian. He does not even care about Egypt. He will gladly oppress the Egyptians for his own ends."

Indeed, Jafar's expression was not exactly one of enthusiasm for Raghib's approach. Ardeth wondered what Jafar _really_ thought of the city he'd found himself ruling.

Jafar hated Cairo. Jafar had always hated Cairo. He almost thought that God, no longer being able to send him to Hell, had settled for sending him to Cairo. And now he had to make everyone believe that he—or at least his figurehead—cared about this grimy city.

If _that_ wasn't bad enough, he definitely felt resistance to his spell. Raghib was still ranting on about his new golden age, and Jafar took the opportunity to trace the resistance.

It seemed to be coming from a tall, flat-chested woman in an abaya and face veil. She stood next to a young man who was holding an oud but not playing it. Fair enough; Jafar had not banned music throughout Cairo.

He signaled to a guard to keep an eye on the woman, then, when Raghib finished his speech, sent him back to a private meeting room near the balcony and addressed the crowd himself.

"Your Sultan will be back with you shortly. We must bring his regalia from the antechamber."

Once safely inside with Rashid, he conjured up an image of the woman. "Resisting my magic in my presence. Can you identify her?"

"Yes, of course, I identify fully-veiled women all the time. What do you think?"

"Is she that Medjai woman Khalid spoke of?"

"Well, I can't identify her, but I can tell by height and body type that she is _not_ Amira. Why don't you do more magic and see if _you_ can identify her?"

Jafar walked back out to the balcony, told the crowd "In a few more minutes your Sultan will be ready to be crowned!" and cast an identifying spell on the person offering magic resistance.

He ran back inside.

"I was half right," Jafar said.

"Half right?"

"Right about the Medjai bit."

"So you're saying that Ardeth himself put an abaya on and visited my coronation."

"Yes, Raghib, that is exactly what I'm saying."

"We may have problems here."

"Ardeth Bey is here and you just now realize we have problems?" Jafar hissed at him.

"I mean, problems besides that. One, we can't just take him captive, and two, he's sort of prophesied to defeat you."

"What do you mean we can't take him captive?"

"You see, if we take him in that disguise, we'll lose the goodwill of the populace for taking a devout woman for seemingly no reason. But if we reveal him first…well, we'll still lose the goodwill of the populace. He and the Medjai are known now. They have a good reputation."

"He's…leaving," a guard said from the balcony. When Jafar looked, the disguised Ardeth was, indeed, running from the square, following a falcon flying overhead.

"We needn't take him _now_," said Jafar. "My spell will make the people see us as the heroes when he comes back for the no doubt _epic_ battle."

Jafar and Raghib walked back out onto the balcony. This time, Jafar was holding the crown and two seals of office, and a small Egyptian minion was holding a turban that looked too big for him to carry. Jafar placed the seal ring on Raghib's hand and the crown on his head, then took the turban from the minion, put it on, and took his own seal. "With these we take our rightful places as Sultan Raghib and Vizier Jafar, your new rulers who will usher in success and prosperity on a level none of you have ever seen!"

"Jafar, why didn't you let me say that," whispered Raghib.

"The more I talk, the stronger the spell is," Jafar hissed back.

However, the further one got from the center of Cairo, the weaker the spell was. By the time Ardeth reached the city gate, he hardly noticed it at all. Amira and seven other Medjai, all mounted on horses, were armed and waiting. Ardeth put the abaya and face veil back in the satchel, then strapped it to one of the horses.

"Why do you have an oud with you?" asked Amira.

"Feisal told me music is banned in the Citadel. We think it might have an effect on the genie's powers."

"Did you bring a spare horse?" asked Feisal.

"No. We're walking into the city," said Ardeth.

"We only rode the horses because eight of us wouldn't fit in Khalid's car," said Amira.

They tied the horses up and walked back towards the square. There, the crowd had not yet dispersed, though the ersatz sultan was no longer on the balcony.

"I want to try something," Ardeth said. He started playing the oud, and people in the square began paying attention.

"Brave to play music here when the new Vizier doesn't like it," one mused.

"They're _Medjai_," said another.

Ardeth began singing as well; he decried Jafar as a wicked usurper and Raghib as a fraud who spoke of a golden age but would bring only misery. He didn't think it was a very _good_ song, but people definitely seemed to be taking notice. Some even looked more alert. Of course, that didn't mean the spell was broken.

Amira sang next, of the greatness of the Medjai and their resolve to save Egypt "even if" the usurper was an ifrit of great power. Of course, they wouldn't have believed he _was_ if she had just said so, but this may yet have set them up for the revelation. It was a subtlety few would have expected from Amira.

When they were done singing, many people had left the square; those who were still there were now not merely alert but angry. Apart from one small girl, who appeared more curious than anything. She shyly approached them and asked, "Are you _really_ Medjai?"

"Yes, child, and we will do everything we can to solve this problem. My name is Amira. This is our commander, and my love, Ardeth Bey."

"But _I _thought Ardeth Bey was eight feet tall, carried two scimitars and could kill mummies with his bare hands!"

"Then why would I need the scimitars?" he asked. "I am sure Mrs. O'Connell would not have told people _that_."

"Mrs. O'Connell? The librarian adventurer who, when all hope was lost, single-handedly defeated the great sorceress Anck-Su-Namun and cast her into a pit of vipers?"

"It was a pit of scorpions, she fell in of her own accord, and she was _not_ a sorceress. Who has been telling you these things?"

"My brother."

"I thought so. The O'Connells and I have indeed had many adventures, but even so, your brother is not telling the truth."

"We play at being great adventurers like you," the girl said. "Though sometimes he makes me play Anck-Su-Namun. He even puts a harmless little snake on me and says it's a viper."

"I knew people had heard of the Medjai," Ardeth said to Amira. "I had not known we were so popular."

The girl ran off towards a slighly older boy, yelling, "Karim! Karim! They really are Medjai! And they say the Vizier is evil!"

Karim walked over.

"I am sure you were expecting someone taller," Ardeth told him.

"So are you going to defeat the Vizier? He's just one man. After all those mummies and jackal-men you killed it'll be easy!"

"That part is reasonably true. But the Vizier will not be easy to defeat. He is not a human being, but a Jinn."

"I thought she was just exaggerating when she was singing," Karim said, indicating Amira. "I know exaggeration when I hear it. I don't really _believe _all the adventurer stories I make up."

"Now you will have one that needs no exaggeration. Ardeth Bey and the Jinn of Agrabah."

"Where's Agrabah?"

"In Syria. Treasure-hunters brought the lamp here."

"Can I help you?"

"Sneak into the Citadel. Claim to be a news boy or something. Find out where the lamp is kept. We'll have to fight our way in."

"Got it."

"Can I come along?" asked the girl.

"Absolutely not. Wait for your brother. You're too small to go on great adventures for now."

Karim and his sister nodded, and joined those in the crowd still heading towards the Citadel (Ardeth hoped it was to rebel, or at least to watch the fight, rather than to _help_ Raghib) and Ardeth led the Medjai towards the mosque entrance.

A guard wearing an ugly tie and a guard wearing an ugly hat were posted there.

"Stand aside and we will not hurt you," Ardeth commanded.

They hesitated.

"So, if we _don't_ stand aside, you _will_ hurt us?" one said.

"Sadly, yes."

"But, see, if we _do_ stand aside, _Jafar_ will hurt us when he finds out." One guard turned to the other and asked, "So, Ted, who are you more afraid of? Ardeth Bey, or Jafar?"

"Only one of us can kill you," said Ardeth, putting one hand on his scimitar.

"Yes, but you'd make it quick. Jafar would make us think we'd be better off dead."

"So, then, you are not disobeying his orders?"

"Don't think so."

"I knew it. Amira, if you would?"

Amira drew her pistol. "If you are lucky, I will only shoot one of you," she said.

"Oh, yeah, right, we're supposed to be scared of a _lady_." Only one said it, but both laughed.

"For that, she might shoot both of you."

"I am Amira bint Sakhr. I am the oldest daughter of Sakhr Abdelkarim, the greatest warrior my tribe has ever known. I have been fighting since I was a girl of five. I am the wife of Ardeth Bey, the greatest commander the Hamunaptran Medjai have ever had. Every morning I swordfight with him before breakfast, and half of the time I win. I have killed better men than the both of you put together, and I have trained every Medjai you see here with the exception of Ardeth. You have not made the right decision in thinking you would be better off here than with the jinn of Agrabah."

"All right, Ned. Shoot her," said Ted.

"Shoot a woman?" asked Ned.

"A Medjai woman. You know our orders."

Ned and Ted reached for their guns, but couldn't find them.

"Did we leave them in the Citadel?"

"Couldn't have. We couldn't use them there, remember? Raghib made us put them away."

One of the Medjai held up two guns.

"Hey, those are _our_ guns!"

"What did you think Yahya was doing while Amira was speaking?" asked Ardeth.

"I didn't see him come near us!"

"I was a thief on the streets of Cairo before the Medjai discovered me," said Yahya. "Apparently, they still have need of my skills."

"Is it too late to stand aside?" asked Ned.

"Of course not. We _will_ have to keep your guns. Yahya, keep one and give one to Amira."

"But Amira already has one."

"Give one to Amira, Yahya." He did so.

On the way into the citadel, Amira hit Ned and Ted over the head with the gun.

"Habibi, you did not have to do that."

"I don't trust them not to go running to the sultan. Besides, they were rude to me."

"Very well then."

Once inside the Citadel, Ardeth asked Amira, "Did you bring the plan of the Citadel with you?"

"Yes. It was hard to find in the fortress. Why do we have a plan of the Citadel at all?"

"The Medjai were enemies of the Crusaders, so they were supporters of Salah ad-Din. They must have gotten the plan for some military action they were planning to take with him." Ardeth took the plan of the Citadel out of the satchel and analyzed it. He pointed to the cells on the lower level and told Yahya, "This is where I believe they are holding Khalid el-Hibri. You will need to get down there and break him out. I intend to go to the throne room."

Yahya went for the stairs while Ardeth led the other Medjai towards the throne room.

In the cells, Yahya found one guard, armed only with a policeman's club, standing in front of one cell. "What are you doing here?" asked the guard.

"I'm here to break Khalid el-Hibri out," said Yahya. "I'd really rather not hurt you since I know you're being controlled by the Jinn of Agrabah, but if you do not stand aside I will have to." He didn't hold much hope the guard would stand aside. If those two upstairs hadn't stood aside for Ardeth, what success would a fairly recent initiate like Yahya have?

"Look, I don't want to get hurt," the guard said, "and I don't know why I got told to lock this fellow up. He seems harmless." The guard stood aside.

"Khalid, does this guard have the keys?"

"He's been standing directly in front of my cell for the past four hours and for one of those he took a nap. If he had the keys, I would have taken them myself by now. _Raghib_ has the keys."

"All right. Then I'll have to do this my way," said Yahya. He took a lock pick out of his pocket and inserted it into the lock of the cell door. After some effort, the door unlocked, and Yahya swung it open. Khalid walked out and shook hands with Yahya.

"Now, let's get back to where the action is," said Khalid.

"Yes. Ardeth was going to the throne room."


	16. Chapter 16

In the throne room, a runner from the gate had arrived and breathlessly told Jafar about the two guards standing aside.

"Are they incapacitated?"

"They don't seem to be, your Highness," the runner said. "They've taken blows to the head and they say they'd really rather not fight 'if that big lady with the guns and swords is going to be in here' but I didn't know who they meant so I came right here to tell you."

"Amira. And where she is, so is…" He left the sentence unfinished. The crowd inside the Citadel—mostly people attempting to petition Jafar, as if he had time for such nonsense as the petty complaints of the citizens of _Cairo_—had pushed aside.

"What are you all doing?" yelled Jafar. "Don't let anyone through! You will be seen to in an orderly fashion!"

"I have to see the Vizier urgently," said a voice near the throne room entrance. The doors weren't closed, because Raghib had _insisted_ that the petitioners be let through and Jafar decided it was best to present a good image, but now Jafar regretted leaving them open. The person who had to see the Vizier urgently was none other than Ardeth Bey, flanked by Amira and a few other Medjai.

"Can't you leave well enough alone?" Jafar hissed at Ardeth.

"When I see 'well enough', I will," the Medjai said back. He was far less angry than Jafar had expected. He wasn't running, or fighting the guards, mainly because the guards weren't attacking him. He simply strode up the path that the petitioners had, without anyone asking them to, cleared.

And spat in Raghib's face.

"I say, what was that all about?" asked Raghib.

"Traitor! You claim to have any respect for this building and you let this monster inside?"

"I had to, I had to," Raghib wheedled. "I only wished for the Citadel to be restored to its former glory and things got away from me!"

Ardeth pulled Raghib up out of the throne and shoved him towards the crowd.

"Why did you do that?" asked Jafar.

"To get him away from you. It may help him."

In the crowd, Raghib stood muttering to himself. "I only wanted to stand in the footsteps of Salah ad-Din," he said pitifully. "I never knew it would come to this."

Amira glared at him and said firmly, "_You_ are not worthy to lick the boots of Salah ad-Din."

"What do you think you are doing? You have threatened the life of the Sultan of Egypt," Jafar said to Ardeth.

"I am trying to save his life. What were you going to do when you had no more use for him? Don't tell me you can't kill. You may not be able to take one of those swords and cut his head off yourself, but you can tell someone else to do it, so do not even _try _telling me you cannot kill him."

"I would never do such a thing. I have nothing but respect for Raghib and want him to come up in the world."

Ardeth had read the History of Agrabah, so as much as he wanted to call Jafar a snake, he wasn't going to. Instead, he drew his sword and put it to the Vizier's neck.

"I'm _immortal_," Jafar said.

"I _know_," said Ardeth. "Do your _loving citizens_?"

Jafar looked shocked and backed up against a pillar. "No, no they don't."

"Then you will have to fight me."

Jafar took a sword that was hanging on the wall and swung it, not exactly like someone who had never used a sword before, but like someone who had only used a sword in a very formal context. "What are you trying to accomplish here, Medjai?" he asked.

"Whatever I can."

"Neither of us can kill the other,"said Jafar. "You will fight until you are tired out, and then what is stopping me from having you put in the dungeon to rot, or killed by one of my men?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you fighting me? Because you know nothing else?"

"No. I know something you don't. I know Khalid is in this room right now trying to steal your lamp."

Jafar looked around. Khalid had in fact entered the throne room, but he was standing with Yahya and not particularly looking for anything.

Ardeth knocked the sword out of Jafar's hands and shoved him. He knew that when the Vizier fell over it was intentional, and wasn't surprised when Jafar stood back up.

Suddenly, Khalid had drawn a gun and was aiming at Jafar.

"You idiot! You'll shoot _me_!"

"Funny thing about glasses, Ardeth. They help you aim."

Raghib was walking towards Khalid with some sense of purpose left on his face. "You can't shoot that in here," he said. "Shoot at Jafar all you like, for all the good it'll do you, but don't do it in here."

"An excellent idea," said Jafar. "Why should we ruin such a lovely building? We shall have to take it outside."

_Outside. Where his citizens aren't watching and he's not confined to one shape or size_, Ardeth thought. On the way out, he stopped, glaring at Khalid.

"Why did you have to pull that gun? You knew it couldn't kill him."

"Here," said Khalid, shoving something wrapped in an old shirt at Ardeth when Jafar wasn't looking. "_That's_ why I pulled the gun. Just…make him angry enough to give you something to destroy that with."

Ardeth could see inside the package the gleam of a lamp. He nodded and finally proceeded to the courtyard. Along the way, he could see Raghib trying to break up fights between his minions and the Medjai. It was largely unsuccessful, and Amira had knocked out five of the minions single-handedly before they even got outside.

In the courtyard, Ned and Ted, who'd recovered somewhat, stood idly by the fountain talking.

"Oh, crap," said Ted. "Figures. We come here to avoid the fighting and the fighting comes to us."

Jafar was currently surrounded by Medjai, swords drawn. He threw a fireball at one of them, who ducked and rolled out of the way.

"Raghib? A little help here?" asked the genie, but Raghib sat in a corner. "Raghib! I order you to help me!"

"That is not going to work," said Ardeth. "He is _your_ master. Perhaps no longer in a position to tell you to do anything you wouldn't do anyway, but not required to follow _your_ orders. I would think after a thousand years you would know better, Jafar. Was it not true that forgetting what it means to be a genie was what ruined you in the first place?"

"Get these men away from me."

Ardeth nodded. "Men, step back. We must find another way to fight him." Most of the Medjai stepped back. Amira still had a gun pointing at Jafar's head.

"I apologize for Amira," said Ardeth. "She can be a bit literal at times."

Amira pulled the trigger of the gun. The bullet went through Jafar's head and landed on the ground.

"What were you trying to do?" asked Jafar. "Teach me a lesson?"

"I just wanted to see what would happen," said Amira, shrugging. She stepped back, whirled around, and shot a gun out of Ned's hand. The thug rushed towards her, fists raised, but she pushed his fist aside and kicked his leg out from under him. Almost everyone was fighting now, even Khalid. Jafar looked around him at the chaos and swung his sword at Ardeth, who blocked it.

"Finally, I fight a worthy opponent," said Jafar.

"I cannot say the same."

"You are brave, Medjai. Perhaps too brave. You may be a worthy opponent but you will not win."

"Do not talk. I have had enough of words from you. Fight."

Jafar brought the sword up again. Instead of raising his own sword, Ardeth ducked underneath the ancient scimitar, grabbed Jafar's arm and twisted it downwards, then put a hand on the blade of Jafar's sword and yanked it out of his hand.

"That wasn't how I was trained to fight!" said Jafar.

"No. You were trained to stand at the head of an army brandishing a sword, but never _ever_ have to fight men who weren't other nobles, men who didn't know the rules. I have one rule. _Live today, fight tomorrow_."

"We shall see about that," said Jafar. He gestured to the sword, which rose from the ground and began swinging furiously of its own accord. "What chance does a mere mortal have against magic?"

"I am not sure." Ardeth swung at the animated sword, but it dipped down and hacked at his leg. He fell over. Jafar's sword fell lifeless at his feet, and as a gesture of defiance more than anything else, he kicked it away.

"You thought you could defeat an all-powerful genie?" Jafar said, smirking at Ardeth, now knocked to the ground and struggling to stand back up. "I will destroy all of you!"

He began shapeshifting, changing from the well-dressed human vizier to a massive red genie floating above the courtyard, a fireball in his hands. He cast it down into the courtyard where it became a flowing river of lava. Almost as an afterthought, he called down to Raghib, cowering behind a pillar with Khalid, "Raghib! Guard my lamp!"

Ardeth, though he was still lying on the ground, pulled the lamp out of his robe and yelled up, "_This_ lamp?"

"This cannot be!" said Jafar. He shrunk back to the size of a man, though didn't change his shape again, and began talking to Ardeth. "I will grant your wishes now. I am sure there is _something_ you would like."

"Not from you." Ardeth sat up and glared at the genie. "I have seen too much of your treachery. You promised Raghib power and took it for yourself. You promised him the glory of this Citadel and destroyed it."

"Childish mortals such as _him_ must not be indulged, master," said Jafar. "You, on the other hand, are a great man. With me, you would be even greater. I would replace your cowering little second-in-command with a mighty warrior. I would replace your ill-bred Bedouin woman with a beautiful princess."

Ardeth, though he knew it would have no effect, rose to his feet and slapped Jafar in the face.

"An evil vizier knows nothing of loyalty. A Medjai does, and must. I need no replacements for Khalid and Amira."

Amira, at the moment, had just succeeded in knocking Ted into the fountain, too dazed to rejoin the fight. "Good work, habibi!" Ardeth told her. He hoped he had made the point about no replacements even clearer.

Turning back to Jafar, he said, "You promise me everything I ever wanted, but all I ever wanted was to serve Egypt and her people as best I could. You were right about one thing, and only one."

"What thing was that?"

"That I am a greater man than the childish mortal you first found. He would never have found the strength to do this."

Ardeth walked, slowly, still damaged from the sword's attack, over to the lava pit.

Khalid had also walked over to the pit, though nobody else had. The Medjai were still fighting off various minions, who had apparently never been given an order to cease from Raghib. Raghib himself was sobbing in a corner, mourning the destruction of the citadel and, no doubt, his part in causing it.

_Insh'allah, the Citadel will be as it was_, Ardeth thought. But before he could throw the lamp into the lava, Jafar had again knocked him to the floor. The lamp flew into the air, and Khalid caught it.

"Perhaps you wish for something, young man?" Jafar asked. "I could destroy your rivals, the stuffy men with no vision like Dr. Robinson. I could make you stronger, better…a _true_ Medjai fit to serve alongside Ardeth Bey, not a sniveling spy who works behind a desk."

"You have no idea what makes a true Medjai," said Khalid. "I would never work with anyone who destroyed Egyptian monuments and attacked my commander. I am going to do what Aladdin should have done in the first place."

"Aladdin. So kind-hearted, so innocent, so unwilling to hurt another when he didn't have to. You would no doubt like to be like your ancestor and spare me, would you not?"

"You seem to think I do not have to hurt you, when everything you have done is opposed to everything I stand for. I am not Aladdin. I am Khalid el-Hibri, I am a Medjai, and I am going to make sure you never harm Egypt, or anywhere else, ever again."

He dropped the lamp into the lava pit. Jafar writhed and screamed in agony, and Khalid, though he'd like to look away, watched to make sure the genie was well and truly dead. Amira ran to Ardeth with the first aid kit and, tearing his trouser leg open, tended to the stab wound as best she could, then helped him to his feet.

"I thought you were going to destroy the lamp. I don't know why Jafar didn't hurt me," Khalid said.

"Jafar thought he could convince you. He knew he never could convince me. He could not hurt me anymore, since I was his master by then, but he could move me out of the way. I wonder why he disregarded the prophecy and worried so much about me."

"To be honest, you are who I would have worried about too," said Khalid. "Prophecy or no prophecy."

Raghib walked over to Khalid. Drying his tears with a dirty handkerchief, he asked, "Can you forgive me?"

"Of course I can," said Khalid. "That genie was very persuasive, and no permanent damage has been done."

Indeed, the minions were shaking their heads and wandering off, the lava pit was gone, and no holes had been left in the citadel.

"So destroying a genie undoes all his magic. Good to know," said Khalid.

"Yes, but some of this damage was done by humans," said Raghib. He pointed to a knocked-over flower pot and a dislodged brick. Uprighting the flower pot, he looked up at the dome of the great building and quietly asked, "Can _you_ forgive me?"

"Who are you talking to, Raghib?" asked Khalid.

"God. And Salah ad-Din."

"Ironic, that when you sought to restore his Citadel to its former glory, you risked destroying it. The words Amira spoke to you within the walls were harsh, yet I feel they taught you something," Ardeth told him.

"Will you take me back, Khalid?"

"It's really up to Dr. Robinson. I'll do what I can, but he wasn't hypnotized and knew what was going on."

"We'll have to go back to the museum right away," said Raghib. Khalid led Ardeth and Raghib back to the museum, while Amira and the Medjai stayed in the courtyard fixing any damages they could.

In the museum, Raghib and Khalid explained everything that happened to Dr. Robinson, who was no longer skeptical.

"Well, I still see no reason why I have to take you back, Mr. Sadiq."

"How am I for one?" asked Ardeth.

"You'll vouch for this man?"

"He was almost certainly out of his mind. Fighting off the jinn's persuasion was difficult work even for me. I imagine it was impossible for him."

"As for _you_, Dr. el-Hibri, you disobeyed me. You let Ardeth Bey steal my airplane, let him use our museum, and…let him save my life. I have no more to say to you about your alliance."

"Your _life_? Good God, man, he just saved _Egypt_! Do you not care?" asked Khalid. "If it were up to me, there would be a statue of him outside the Citadel! And all you want to thank him for is saving your life, because if Egypt was destroyed you could scurry away to England and find some other country to plunder for antiquities, couldn't you? You can't fire me, Dr. Robinson. I _quit_."

"What will you do?"

"Whatever my commander needs me to," said Khalid. "But if you want this all formal-like, because I know you always do, here." Khalid picked up a resignation form. His hands were shaking as he filled it in, but Dr. Robinson was too stunned to notice. Ardeth wasn't.

"Here." Khalid shoved the resignation form in Dr. Robinson's face.

"You can't quit! I need you!"

"Raghib can do everything I did."

"Just remember," said Raghib, "I was Sultan of Egypt. Nobody will know, but you will and I will and someday, when you feel like berating someone for putting an artifact two inches out of place, or not smiling at visitors, or being too Arab, you'll remember _that man once had enough power to have me executed, and he didn't_. And you'll go off and berate someone else."

"Jafar wanted you to execute me?"

"To be fair, I think Jafar wanted me to execute everyone. He didn't like Cairo. Although to be fair, the feeling was mutual. That's one thing I don't think he realized. Magic can force people to bow to you, but nothing in the world can make them love you. There was always a part of most of the people there that knew that no matter what was wrong with Cairo before Jafar came along, he wasn't the solution."

"Well said, Raghib, and I only wish I had gotten to know you under different circumstances," said Ardeth.

"So that's it, then. I lose one of my best employees because a genie nearly smashed up Cairo, and his replacement is the fellow who _caused_ the genie to nearly smash up Cairo. This won't be one for the London office, let me tell you. No hard feelings, Dr. el-Hibri, and I'll understand completely if you want to come back."

"I doubt I will," Khalid said, "but thank you anyway."

"You and Ardeth are always welcome in my museum from now on. I learned my lesson."

Khalid and Ardeth walked out of Dr. Robinson's office. Khalid said, "Oh, God, what did I just do? I threw away everything!"

"No, not everything," said Ardeth, putting a hand on Khalid's shoulder to steady him. "You are still a Medjai. And you have still saved this city."


	17. Epilogue

Khalid was invited to a victory celebration in the Medjai fortress three days later. He didn't have anything better to do. In fact, he didn't have much to do at all. He didn't know what was going to happen to him now that he was out of the museum. He was still welcome at his old university, he supposed, but how was he going to get to London? The story of the Jinn of Agrabah might make for a good yarn in the lounge, if not for a plausible academic paper, but it certainly wouldn't pay his passage on a boat. And nobody else in Egypt knew what happened, except for Dr. Robinson, who wanted to forget it, and Ardeth, who wasn't exactly a genius at public relations.

He went to the fortress and was welcomed by an old woman with long gray hair and a falcon on her wrist. "Ah, you are Khalid el-Hibri," she said. "My son thinks highly of you, you know."

"Really? Tell him I was scared to death and wouldn't wish the same kind of adventure on anyone."

"Ah, Khalid," said Ardeth, stepping into the antechamber. "I see you've met my mother, Fahima."

"I was still scared to death and wouldn't wish the same kind of adventure on anyone!"

"I know."

"But you think highly of me?"

"I would rather have one man who says he is a coward and does brave deeds than a thousand men who say they are brave and do not. Have you never heard the saying 'better a live dog than a dead lion'?"  
"I'm glad to know I'm not a dead lion, Ardeth, really I am, but I have another problem. I want to be working in a museum again. I'm a scholar with nothing to study."

"I have something for you." He led Khalid into the fortress, followed by Fahima. In one large room, pots of tea and plates of food were set on a table; Amira and Feisal had already begun to eat, and Fahima joined them. A slightly smaller room to one side of the hall seemed to be a library; shelves of books and scrolls lined the walls. Ardeth took a scroll off a top shelf and handed it to Khalid.

"I would not want to alarm the Medjai so soon after our victory. Do not read that scroll until you return home."

"Is it something to study?"

"I think you will find it is everything you could have hoped for. Now, come with me. You must join the celebration, Khalid. Without you, we would still be ruled by that ancient demon, and have nothing to celebrate at all."

Khalid put the scroll into an envelope for safekeeping and put it in his tote bag before joining the party in the hall. He half expected someone to yell "Speech! Speech!", but instead he was not disturbed as he piled his plate high with lamb and rice. It was not until after everyone had eaten, when a large plate of sweets was brought out, that Amira stood up and said, "Khalid, some of the guests have been waiting to hear some words from you."

Khalid stood up. "I'm going to make this short because I don't want to be keeping anyone, least of all myself, from my baklava. When I found out about the lamp of Agrabah I had no idea what was going to happen. I had to trust in myself and my knowledge, and sometimes I couldn't do that, but in the end I was able to pull through. But I couldn't have done it without Ardeth, and I really don't know why you're hearing from me when you could be hearing from him."

"Khalid is far too modest. I could not have done it without him, either. Those are the only words I have," Ardeth said. He sat back down, cut a slice of baklava, and handed it to Khalid before taking one for himself.

At the end of the meal, Khalid tried to quietly leave, but was instead congratulated and cheered by almost everyone he ran into in the fortress. Finally, he got home, and before even taking his shoes off, he took the scroll out of his bag and opened it.

It was a sketch of an Assyrian amulet depicting a woman; she seemed to be a queen or goddess in a chariot pulled by a winged horse. The writing around the sketch was very faded, and Khalid could hardly read it. He instead looked at a more recent note.

This one was in Ardeth's handwriting, which meant that in terms of legibility it was hardly an improvement. It did, however, tell Khalid that this artifact, the Amulet of Semiramis, had been discovered in a tomb in Iraq and was on its way to a museum in New York City. Unfortunately, the note went on, the amulet had bizarre powers, and could cause trouble unless someone who knew about it was posted in the museum. _Fortunately_, the Department of Near Eastern Antiquities had a vacancy that…someone would be asking Khalid about filling?

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry or cry while laughing. He _had_ asked for something to study, and not only had something fallen into his lap, he was going to _New York_.

He went upstairs and began setting aside things he would need for the trip, hardly caring that the letter about the position hadn't even arrived. After defeating an evil genie, Khalid was sure he would be able to deal with whatever was next.

_Author's Note_: _If this epilogue sounds like a sequel hook, that's because it is. I'm already writing The Amulet of Semiramis._


End file.
